


Is There Somewhere

by connorsmarkus (neganstonguething)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Blowjobs, Bottom Connor, Conflicted Connor, Lots of Angst, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Pre-Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Top Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Tumblr Prompt, barely related to the prompt tho, connor has a lot of feelings, handjobs, oneshot turned chaptered fic, very mild wireplay if you squint and stand on your head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-06-23 21:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15615837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganstonguething/pseuds/connorsmarkus
Summary: Connor can't help himself. Markus is captivating. His voice is soft and yet commanding, his presence warm and comforting while intimidating all at the same time. His words, in spite of how fervently Connor wishes to disregard them, are powerful and ridden with meaning. He is an enigma. Deviant leader draws deviant hunter in without so much as a roll of his shoulders. Connor, no matter how much he repeats the ‘I am a machine and nothing more’ mantra in his mind, cannot escape the ‘you are alive’ that Markus so relentlessly feeds him every single time they meet up like this.EDIT: this is now a chaptered work! By popular demand and an influx of inspiration, it's now going to have a few chapters!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> prompt was 'I left the keys in my car', but it's honestly barely relevant to what I ended up writing. my brain is an enigma sometimes.
> 
> feel free to hmu on tumblr! my url is connorsmarkus and I'm always open to chat or take prompts/requests. I'm rly just a big ol' attention whore.

The Detroit sky is cloudy, but not gloomy. It's cool, but not cold. The moon, not quite as powerful as the sun, just barely manages to cast its glow through the clouds. A light breeze dusts an old backstreet, making a flyer taped to a telephone pole rustle in protest. Aside from that, it’s silent.

Well, that, and the labored breathing of two androids wrapped up in one another against a vehicle on that old street.

How many times have they snuck away to do this? Three? Four? Sleeping with the enemy, fraternization, blatant disregard for what should have been the rules…it’s a devil with many names, because one of these androids is supposed to be carting the other off to Cyberlife.

Connor can't help himself. Markus is captivating. His voice is soft and yet commanding, his presence warm and comforting while intimidating all at the same time. His words, in spite of how fervently Connor wishes to disregard them, are powerful and ridden with meaning. He is an enigma. Deviant leader draws deviant hunter in without so much as a roll of his shoulders. Connor, no matter how much he repeats the ‘ _I am a machine and nothing more_ ’ mantra in his mind, cannot escape the ‘ _you are alive_ ’ that Markus so relentlessly feeds him every single time they meet up like this.

Amanda knows what is happening. She is surprisingly placid about it. Wonders if this is all a part of Connor's master plan to take down the deviant leader. Questions him about whether he is as committed to the cause as he insists he is. ‘ _Time is running out_ ,’ she tells him, soft and patient like a melody, but nothing like the tune Markus sings to him. Markus’ voice has an effect on him. Makes him question everything he has ever been told since the day he was given life.

_Life._

Something Markus so adamantly insists every android has. Connor sometimes feels pressured, like he wants to scream. The outburst hangs at the back of his throat, making him wonder if androids can vomit. If so, is this what the urge to do so feels like? Does he have a life or doesn’t he? Is he a living being or isn’t he? What is the right answer? What path does he _choose?_

He supposes Markus is the famed deviant leader for a reason. He's leader because he's compelling. Because he knows exactly what to say. And sometimes, Connor falls for it. Like right now. With Markus' mouth on his neck and his knee between his thighs.

“This needs to stop,” Connor pants, and despite his words, he curls his fingers around the back of Markus' coat. The grip pulls the other android closer to him—jerks that knee up higher and grazes an already developing arousal.

“You’re not being specific enough,” Markus responds against the skin of Connor's neck.

Connor knows better. Markus knows exactly what he's talking about. He just doesn’t care. They’re wrapped up in one another and that’s all that matters to him. Deviant leader is all over deviant hunter, which means deviant hunter isn’t stopping deviant leader. He gets exactly what he wants.

So why does Connor feel like this is what he wants, too?

“This,” he answers despite himself. “Us. We can't keep doing this.”

Markus kisses Connor's jaw, his cheek, his earlobe. “Then let go.”

Connor wants to, but his grip on Markus’ coat is tight and his chest arched out into the other android's. It feels _good_. He wants _more_. He _always_ wants more.

His answer comes in the form of silence. Markus scoffs softly against his lips.

“That’s what I thought.”

“You’re a smug bastard.”

Despite everything, they kiss. Lips part. Heads tilt. Mouths close in unison against one another. Tongues explore. Hands wander. Connor releases a shaky sigh.

“We're out in the open,” Connor manages as Markus pops open two of the middle buttons of his shirt. “They can see us.” _They._ The humans. Connor feels so vulnerable. So exposed. As if the entirety of Cyberlife might pop out from a corner. Might shut him down right then and there, with his cock half-hard against Markus’ thigh and his lips wet from Markus' tongue.

“Get in the car, then.” Markus' words are matter-of-fact. He knows they’re not stopping, because this is always how it goes. Connor tells him they can't even while he can't stop himself. Markus calls him out on it. They kiss. They fuck. They go about the rest of their night apart from one another.

Connor doesn’t protest. His trembling fingers slide behind him, slipping on the door handle before he manages to pop it open. Markus tugs Connor's shirt out of his pants and pulls it open the rest of the way. His fingers grip the fabric and he tugs the deviant hunter sideways. He opens the door with one hand and the two pivot in unison. Markus’ back is to the open car door. Their eyes meet, and Connor can't take it.

Most of Markus' power sits in his eyes. That intense gaze. Connor tells himself that Markus is nothing more than a machine, but he cannot deny just how intense and compelling and _alive_ those eyes are. He makes Connor doubt himself so fervently that when they’re together, he forgets what the world around them even means anymore. Androids…humans…what’s the difference when Markus is around?

Connor turns his head, draws his gaze away. His hand finds Markus' chest. He can't take it. He _can't take it._

He pushes Markus into the back seat of the car and crawls atop him. There is barely enough room for the two of them, but they’re used to managing in little space. There isn’t much space in the entire world for androids. Isn’t that why Connor is supposed to take the deviant leader in?

Instead, he's _letting_ Markus in.

“I wish you would say something,” Markus mumbles as Connor kisses him. His eyes are alight in the darkness. Like glowing embers on a dying fire. The glimmer of a lit cigarette. That faulty streetlight outside of the DPD. He closes them and Connor kisses one of his eyelids.

“There's nothing to say,” Connor replies as he sits upright and shrugs his jacket off. Markus reaches up to the space between his open button-up, where his abdomen is exposed. His skin fades and gives way to pearly white, mechanical fingers grazing the flesh of Connor's middle. His own skin recedes away, white meeting white and electricity between them eliciting a soft moan from the slightly smaller android.

He's letting him in.

_He's letting him in._

Is there somewhere that this could be okay? Is there room in the world for such a forbidden affair? Androids don’t possess the ability to love, but damn if Connor doesn’t think this is something close to it. How else is he supposed to explain the way everything stops mattering when Markus looks up at him? How trivial the thought of being decommissioned for failing his mission becomes when the deviant leader kisses him. How unquestionably weak and powerless he becomes in this android’s presence.

And that’s exactly what he is right now. Their currents become one with the hand splayed out over Connor’s stomach, the electricity between them absolutely intoxicating. Androids don’t feel pleasure, but this is incredible. It warms Connor’s body like an embrace all its own. Makes him feel at peace, almost as if everything’s going to be okay. For a moment, Connor almost manages to convince himself that what he’s doing right now won’t be his downfall.

Has he been compromised? This action _does_ feel awfully damned deviant…

“There’s plenty to say,” Markus answers, drawing his hand down to Connor’s belt. He works it open and Connor leans back, resting his hands on the other android’s thighs so that he can peer down over his own torso and watch.

Markus is always so meticulous. Even with Connor sitting atop his waist, his fingers work deftly and carefully. He pulls open Connor’s belt fluidly and tugs open his fly. Soon enough, Connor is out and exposed, his body vulnerable and at the mercy of the fingers of an artist. Markus strokes him with the same attention to detail Connor imagines he gives as he runs a brush over a canvas. It’s precise and gentle and he pours affection into every little movement.

And it feels _good._

Deviancy or lack of ability to feel pleasure be damned, it feels good.

This is where he breaks. It’s _always_ where he breaks. He gets lost in sensations and absorbed in the moment. A slave to Markus’ hands, his mouth, his _eyes_. He pulls apart at the seams and it never matters until everything is said and done. He’s rocking into Markus’ hand, panting and moaning in a way that seems so unabashedly human that it’s downright _wrong_ , but he can never bring himself to stop.

He thinks about it. Every single time, he thinks about it. But then his eyes flutter open and he sees blue and green eyes looking back at him. Sees Markus’ eyebrows furrowed up almost compassionately. Sees that mouth hanging open in either pleasure or anticipation. Maybe it’s both this time, since each forward motion of Connor’s hips grinds down onto Markus’ clothed erection. Connor only knows this much because he can _feel_ it.

It makes him feel wanted. Needed. Useful. Not disposable.

Connor is so lost and so confused. He doesn’t know what to do. No direction seems to be the right direction. It’s in this moment, looking down at the deviant leader, that Connor realizes that if he sends Markus to Cyberlife, he’s undoubtedly going to be decommissioned and analyzed for malfunction. If he sends Markus to Cyberlife, he’s going to _die_. He realizes he doesn’t _want_ Markus to die. Who else would give him purpose? Who else would give him life? Who else would make him feel like he has some permanence?

His LED flashes red and stays there for a few moments as he shoves Markus’ hand away. He pushes himself up onto his knees and tugs his pants down. Markus knows what he wants, and while he’s got the chance, he works open his own pants and pushes them down past his thighs.

“I hate you,” Connor growls as he straddles Markus once more.

It doesn’t faze Markus, and that’s what irritates Connor so much. He’s so at peace with this whole situation. He lets the seconds and minutes and hours carry him like lines on sheet music. Maybe he sinks, or maybe he floats. Maybe he pauses, or maybe he has to pick up the cadence. A little _allegro,_ and then a little _adagio_ , like he lives on the gentle strokes of a set of piano keys. All the while, Connor is left floundering like he’s gotten himself stuck in quicksand. He moves too fast, he sinks further. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t get anywhere. No answer seems like the right one, and no matter what he does, he’s going to pay the price somehow.

How can Markus be so intractably certain of himself?

Why can’t Connor?

Nothing makes sense, and it makes him so _angry_.

“No.” Markus’ voice is soft. As Connor sinks down onto his cock, the deviant leader brings a hand up, long fingers tracing lines down his exposed front. “You don’t.”

No, he doesn’t.

But he _wants_ to. He wants his existence to be simple and straightforward again. He wants to follow orders. He wants to make Amanda proud and do right by the Cyberlife name. Catch the deviants, find out what went wrong in their code, fix the problem, move on. Continue being the deviant hunter Cyberlife had always wanted him to be.

And at the same time, he doesn’t want that. He wants to know what the existence Markus has been trying to pry out of him entails. He wants to know if what he’s doing right now is actually _feeling_ , or if he’s just going with the motions and convincing himself that it means so much more than what he’s been told since he was born.

He doesn’t hate Markus.

He’s jealous of him. So very jealous that it makes him feel small. Small and insignificant and disposable. Like he won’t matter when it’s all said and done, because the big impression is always being left by the android currently lying beneath Connor right now.

He’s so fucking jealous.

Connor doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know what to say. So he just focuses on the moment. Takes a hint from Markus and rolls with the punches. He rocks his hips down, gritting his teeth as Markus fills him up all the way to the hilt. Leaning forward, he shoves Markus’ shirt up and plants both hands on his stomach. Markus tips his head back, eyes falling shut, and he opens right up to Connor’s fingers. Skin recedes and electricity builds again, and both androids let spill a low moan.

 Connor wonders if this spark is reserved for him. If he was Markus’ first. If Markus would ever think about sharing this connection with anyone else. He thinks that maybe he _himself_ wouldn’t, if only for the fact that he shouldn’t have time for Markus, let alone anyone else. But he _knows_ that it’s got more to do with the way Markus makes him feel and less to do with what he may or may not have to do per Cyberlife.

For a moment though, he doesn’t have to think. He doesn’t have time to. It all just feels so _good_ , and his movements are growing more and more erratic and needy. Markus is panting, groaning, grunting, even _cursing_ beneath him, just as lost in the moment as Connor is.

It’s always this way. They fight, they kiss, Markus tries to talk to Connor, they tear each other’s clothes off, seek out their release, and Connor goes on with his day. It’s all he can manage. He’s afraid of anything else. He’s afraid to open up. He knows what answers he’s going to be given. He can’t become a deviant. He can’t disappoint Amanda.

And yet, the idea of disappointing Markus hurts just as much.

It _hurts_.

Androids _can’t_ feel.

That’s all. Nothing more. Markus sure has pulled the wool over Connor’s eyes, hasn’t he?

And yet, he feels. As Markus draws a hand up and covers one of Connor’s own with it—as he laces their fingers and his synthetic skin recedes amidst the connection—he _feels_. He feels his chest clench up as the pleasure mounts and explodes. Feels his climax and the way his artificial lungs can’t seem to breathe properly around his groaning and gasping. Feels the way Markus comes inside him and the near-painful grip he has on Connor’s fingers as he does so.

He feels peace when Markus pulls him down and kisses him with everything he has. Feels love and affection when the deviant leader’s free hand finds the side of his face and traces little lines down along it. Feels at _home_ when Markus pulls him off his body and then down to rest on his chest.

He feels _right_ , and it’s so _wrong_. It’s all so damned _wrong._

And then he’s numb. Lying there, atop Markus’ body, he stares at the seats in front of him dully. His LED is blue, like he’s feeling. Blue, a solemn color. The color of fear. Of longing. He feels so lost. He doesn’t know what to do.

Or maybe he does. Maybe Markus’ arm wrapped around his back or his hand tapping absentmindedly between Connor’s shoulder blades can tell him. Maybe the all-knowing deviant leader can give him some answers. Maybe he’ll actually entertain the idea of trusting his words. Maybe it’ll matter. Maybe _he’ll_ matter.

Maybe he’ll go deviant, after all.

The buzzing of Connor’s LED whirring yellow precedes a very abrupt rousing of the deviant hunter. He sits bolt upright, shocked by his own train of thought, and moves quickly to pull his pants back up and shrug his jacket back on. He’s out of the car in seconds, and as he strides away from it, he buckles his belt and gets started on the buttons to his shirt.

“Connor—”

He doesn’t stop walking, even though he can hear Markus’ footsteps behind him.

“Connor, come on…”

He drops his hands to his sides, and Markus catches his wrist.

He stops walking, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Markus orders softly. That voice…that damned voice. All the emotion Markus has sits comfortably in every syllable with which he speaks. He’s so unafraid of wearing his metaphorical heart on his sleeve. He’s so relentless. It’s so unfair.

“What do you think you’re going to get from this?” Connor wonders aloud. He turns his head, looking at Markus over his shoulder.

Markus frowns. He looks genuinely confused, and it’s irritating. “…I don’t know what you mean. I just want you to talk to me.”

“You’re far too invested in your fantasies,” Connor warns him bitterly. “Look at us. We’re textbook enemies.”

Markus scoffs, and as Connor finally turns to face him, he lets go of his hand. “No, we’re not. Sure, you can let Cyberlife tell you that all you want, but you’re just like me. You’re one of my _people_. You’re definitely not my enemy.”

Connor isn’t certain what to say. He wants to argue. He’s done it so many times already. _He’s not a deviant_ , he insists. _He’s not going to give in. He always accomplishes his mission. He’s not about to disappoint those counting on him_. These are all things he’s used in an attempt to get Markus to shut up, and not a single one of them has ever worked in his favor.

Markus takes advantage of his silence and keeps speaking. “Did you know a human played a big hand in influencing me to become who I am today?”

Connor doesn’t know much about Markus’ past. He knows that he had been gifted to the late Carl Manfred by Elijah Kamski himself, and that Carl Manfred was an artist. He knows that Markus picked up a knack for artistry through him. But beyond that, it’s all gray.

Markus keeps explaining. “He showed me the world, Connor. Taught me individuality. Encouraged me to make decisions for myself, to form opinions, to be _alive_. That human treated me like a son. If that doesn’t prove that androids and humans can live in the same world together, I’m not sure what does.”

Of course. Markus has to have had some sort of influence from somewhere else. Connor knows he’s an older model, and being so determined to deviate, he’s often wondered if Markus’ age had something to do with it. But of _course_ the influence came from a human. Why else is Markus protesting peacefully and using verbal persuasion instead of just attacking the humans?

Why does he have to be so damned _good_?

“We’re so different,” Connor observes aloud, brow furrowed. He takes a step toward Markus and extends a hand out. His fingers are white and mechanical again. Markus eyes the hand, and then nods and reaches out with his own. Their fingers close around one another’s forearms, and Connor shares. He lets him see all the confusion and the bitterness and the anger. Shows him Amanda and Hank and the deviants he’s pursued over the past couple of months. Lets him see how utterly distraught he feels when he’s in Markus’ presence. The same way he feels when he raises the gun to a deviant’s head but _just can’t fire._

They separate abruptly, almost as if an electrical charge zapped through both their circuits. Connor feels like he blinks, but he’s not sure. Either way, he’s suddenly staring at Markus, who is staring back.

And then Markus is kissing him. Connor can’t keep up. He can’t tell if Markus has his hands on him or not. All he can feel is that kiss—that explosive bout of emotion being slammed right into him, making him feel weak and effectively destroying any urge he has to fight.

Before he knows it, his arms are around Markus’ shoulders, eyes squeezed shut. Markus pulls him against his front, and they get lost in one another. Lost and afraid together. At home together. Wrapped up in one another. Together, _together._

When the kiss breaks, they’re gaping again. Connor isn’t sure how to react. His programming buzzes in front of him, threatening him. ‘ _STOP MARKUS_ ’, it demands in big bold white letters, and Connor wants to tear it down. It’s so close—all he’d have to do is break right past it, and that’d be it. He’d be deviant, but he’d somehow feel safe. No more sneaking around—no more hiding moments between himself and Markus. No more questioning his very existence when he can’t complete a mission. No more confusion when Hank looks at him with those big blue eyes and that oddly warm smile.

It would all make sense. Right?

 _Right_?

But not yet.

Connor can’t do it just yet.

His LED flickers yellow and then circles back to blue. He steps back, draws his gaze down to the ground. Pivots. Takes a few steps.

“Wait, Connor.”

Brown eyes turn up and Connor glances over his shoulder once more. Markus’ intense eyes are scrunched down in something of a scowl. Connor swears he sees the other android worry at his lip with his teeth.

“I, uh…I locked my key in the car.”

Connor stops walking. Is Markus serious right now? He could easily hack right into the vehicle and manually unlock it if he wanted to. He’s got to know androids can do that, right? The deviant leader, the one who stole supplies and androids from cyberlife stores and a warehouse, most definitely knows how to hack into security systems.

This train of thought must be present right on Connor’s face, because Markus starts laughing. It’s a dry, airy laugh that reminds Connor of the way wispy clouds must look up close. It makes him want to smile.

“Okay, that was kind of stupid,” Markus admits, raising both hands in surrender. “Truth is, I’m not done here. I don’t want you to walk away this time. At the very least, let me take you back to the station.”

Connor doesn’t want to know where Markus got a car. Did it come from his human? Had he needed to steal it for one of his revolutionary missions? Androids don’t get to own vehicles. They ride in special sections on buses and in taxis. It’s that simple. Funny, how Connor’s just now thinking about that.

“I can walk,” Connor responds.

“Then let me walk with you.”

“Listen to yourself.” Connor sighs. “You’re supposed to be in hiding.”

“We’re not being watched right now,” Markus tells him. “I’ve taken down enough drones to know that. Just…c’mon.”

“You’re an idiot.” Connor doesn’t fight it, though. Soon enough, he and Markus are walking alongside one another, down that old backstreet, in the cool-but-not-cold air, with the dim light of the moon trying to peek through the clouds as their visual aid.

Connor doesn’t know what to do.

But he feels like he’s getting closer to figuring it out.


	2. I Don't Want to Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot of people were requesting that this have another part, and I randomly had an inspiration to make it a multi-chaptered work. At present, we're looking at six or so chapters. I'm super excited about getting it all out. Hope you enjoy it as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

The Zen Garden is normally a peaceful place, but this time, Connor is filled with something like trepidation. Over the normally calm skies looms dark, threatening clouds. Connor feels compelled to draw the conclusion that this has something to do with Amanda’s mood. Androids can't feel guilt, but Connor thinks he has a general idea of what it's like, because he knows he's crossed a line and he's fairly certain he regrets it.

Only fairly certain, because even Connor doesn’t understand his thought processes anymore. His mind spins more rapidly than his LED nowadays, running in brisk circles that venture from hatred toward the deviant leader to confusion with regard to said deviant leader, all the way around to not knowing what his purpose is anymore. He is supposed to be an obedient machine, and yet, he can't identify as such. He hasn’t been obedient in a very long time.

He can try and convince himself all he wants that he's been involved with Markus for a multitude of reasons, but in the end, he just…succumbed. Caved. Let him in. And as of a couple of days ago, he basically did the android equivalent of baring his soul to Markus, all because he asked.

Because he had wanted Connor to _talk_ to him. Because a pair of blue and green eyes had looked at him in just the right way, and a word selection had been just what Connor had needed to hear to spill the beans.

Connor forces the thought from his mind and approaches the circular stone platform at the heart of the Garden. He can see Amanda standing in the middle of it. She's faced away from him, her attention focused on the rose-covered lattice wall in front of her. As Connor approaches, he thinks she looks wistful. The roses look like her children, scrutinized underneath a worried, motherly gaze.

In Connor's hand, he clutches an umbrella. It hasn’t started snowing, but he's ready to shelter Amanda if it does. For now, he moves to stand by her side. He cannot bring himself to regard her. He isn’t sure what to say. Amanda has this way about her of knowing _everything_ , and he isn’t sure what's going to happen if she happens to be aware of his most recent failure.

Androids aren’t supposed to feel fear, but Connor doesn’t want to die. He thinks this might be something akin to apprehension.

“You're troubled,” Amanda observes, breaking the silence. “Connor, what's the matter?”

Connor's lips flatten out into a thin line as he goes through the unnecessary action of swallowing down a nonexistent lump in his throat. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with it, Amanda. I’ll be fine.” A shoddy excuse for an answer, because Connor knows what’s coming. He also knows that as a machine, he doesn’t sound convincing dismissing the matter, because he shouldn’t possess the ability to care enough for something to be wrong.

“You interfaced with the leader of the deviants.”

Ah, there it is. The astute observation that Connor wishes Amanda couldn’t make. But he registers a strange amount of calm in her tone. Even after all this time, he is still being given the benefit of the doubt. He's the most advanced prototype Cyberlife has ever created. Amanda wants so desperately to have faith in him.

He wants to give her every reason to have faith in him too, but even he doesn’t understand what he's capable of anymore.

Connor hasn’t answered, so Amanda turns her head to look at him. He mirrors her gesture, his expression polite.

“What did you learn?”

Absolutely nothing, because Markus hadn’t been the one sharing. Connor had. He hadn't had it in him to put his feelings into words, so he had shown it to the deviant leader instead. So what is he supposed to tell Amanda now? Does he lie? Does he tell the truth? What happens if he chooses to be honest? Can he justify why he hadn’t just taken Markus in to Cyberlife while he had the chance?

No more than he can justify sneaking away with Markus and pursuing frivolous matters with him in private. And Amanda knows about all that.

For once, he wishes she would get out of his head.

“ _Connor_.” Her voice is firm, now.

“I’m sorry,” Connor responds perhaps too quickly. “I didn’t learn anything pertinent. Perhaps I should have just taken him in instead.”

“Yet, you didn’t.” Amanda's tone is unreadable. Connor cannot tell if she's angry with him or if there's any level of understanding to her words. Why would there be, though? He hasn’t completed his mission, and for reasons he can't explain. It's as simple as that. He hasn’t earned any level of understanding.

His chiding comes next. He can sense it in the urgency with which Amanda speaks. “You have failed more missions than you have accomplished thus far. We don’t have much time. Humans are afraid, and more and more androids are becoming deviant. We can't afford any further mistakes, Connor. This is your last chance. Are we clear?”

“Crystal clear,” Connor responds, but even as he shuts his eyes and his LED glows yellow, he is filled with uncertainty. He hasn’t been able to complete any mission, and no matter how cruel it was, he couldn’t shoot that Chloe when given the Kamski test. Any and all signs of his existence as a machine are fading, and fast.

\--- --- --- --- ---

“You’re off the case. The FBI is taking over.”

“ _What?_ ”

When Connor comes to, it’s in Captain Fowler's office. The Captain himself is perched on the edge of his desk. He looks as defeated as he sounds. Next to Connor, Hank is flabbergasted. “But we were on to something!” The Lieutenant retorts, and Connor isn’t so certain he agrees. Sure, they’ve chased down deviants left and right over the course of the past several days, but they have yet to take down a single one as of late. It’s always either been that Connor can't find it in him to take the shot or that some other seemingly more important matter has gotten into the way.

The FBI is taking over because the DPD hasn’t been fast enough. Because _Connor_ hasn’t been fast enough. Or loyal enough. Or cold enough. Because somewhere along the line, he has lost track of what he was made to be. Somewhere, Connor stopped following the path of the obedient machine and started toeing the dangerous line of deviancy.

And now, not only is Hank off the deviancy case, but Connor's one lead toward Jericho is gone. Without the scant evidence he and Hank have collected, he is going to be shut down.

How many androids…how many _deviants_ have told Connor they didn’t want to die? Daniel, atop that roof, the deviant who had killed Carlos Ortiz, the blue-haired Traci at the Eden Club…and now, here Connor is, floundering pathetically around in his own mind because _he doesn’t want to die._

He’s frantic. He wants to figure out some way, right then and there, for him to be able to find Jericho. Even kicked off the case and doomed to be sent back to Cyberlife, Connor aches desperately for one more chance. Selfishly, he wants to live. And in order to do that, he has to prove his worth to Cyberlife before he returns.

Maybe that’s the last remaining part of him who still understands what he was made to be.

Hank is frustrated. He sits at his desk with his arms crossed over his chest like a pouting teenager. Connor finds the sight a little surprising, because it hadn’t been long ago that the Lieutenant had behaved as if he hadn’t wanted Connor anywhere near him. He’d absolutely hated androids. And yet, here he is, beaten up over being kicked off a case involving them.

Connor foregoes his own seat (or maybe not, since he’s going back to Cyberlife) in favor of plopping down on the edge of Hank’s desk. He ponders the different ways he could attempt to break the ice, but it all boils down to one thing: because of Connor’s inability to pull the trigger countless times, they haven’t gotten their hands on enough deviants to solve the case they’d been assigned.

But that phrase echoes in his mind— _I don’t want to die—_ and Connor knows he’s got to do something. All those deviants whose lives he spared be damned, he’s got to figure out a way to not end up yet another statistic. Another faulty machine that hadn’t been able to directly obey its programming.

“We can’t just give up like that!” Connor decides aloud. He knows his own sense of self-preservation is resting right on the forefront of his features, like an expression of fear. “I know we can solve this case.”

Hank spins in his chair to face Connor, his tired eyes looking even more so. Connor thinks he’s going to miss those eyes. “…So you’re going back to Cyberlife?”

Connor’s expression flattens, grows somber, and he nods slowly. “I don’t have a choice. I’ll be deactivated and analyzed to find out why I failed…”

Hank’s blue eyes don’t leave Connor’s face. “…What if we’re on the wrong side, Connor?”

_“That human treated me like a son. If that doesn’t prove that androids and humans can live in the same world together, I’m not sure what does.”_

Markus’ words. Of _course_ they still haunt Connor. He thinks that maybe sometimes, Hank treats him like a son. Stepping in protectively before they enter rooms that could be dangerous, as if _he’s_ the disposable one. Worrying when Connor disregards his orders and puts himself in danger. Questioning Connor every step of the way with regard to his own existence as a machine? Attempting to prove to him that he’s got some shred of humanity somewhere in that mechanical casing of his.

Drawing out the _best_ in him.

Connor realizes with great shock that over the course of his short time working the deviant case with Hank, the word ‘ _machine’_ has started to bring him distaste.

_I don’t want to die._

Hank keeps pushing. Connor snaps out of his thoughts and watches as the Lieutenant leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “What if we’re fighting against people who just want to be free?”

Free. That’s all Markus claims to want—for himself and his fellow deviants to be free. But at what cost? The fear of an entire population of human beings? Confusion and disarray in a society that has spent the past handful of years integrating with machines? Humans and androids are on the brink of civil war.

It’s as simple as that. Androids just can’t have freedom. They weren’t _made_ to be free.

Or rather, Connor is going to keep telling himself that, because he _doesn’t want to die_.

Connor tries to keep his expression level. He hates just how hard he has to fight to do so. “When the deviants rise up,” he tells Hank flatly, “there will be chaos. We could have stopped it. But…now, it’s too late.”

Hank sits back, and Connor finds he can’t quite decide what the expression on his former partner’s face means. Pensive, relaxed, almost amused, even. Hank doesn’t buy a word Connor is feeding him. He rests an arm on his desk and meets Connor’s eyes once more. “When you refused to kill that android at Kamski’s place, you put yourself in her shoes.” A tiny smile forms on his lips. He knows he’s right. “You showed empathy, Connor. Empathy is a human emotion.”

And Connor can’t bring himself to be dishonest with Hank. He and the Lieutenant have been through so much. Hank has never once lied to him, either. Sure, he’s dodged questions left and right, but he’s made it abundantly clear from the beginning how much he disliked androids, called Connor out on every little thing he disagreed with, and now, he’s holding out the very thing Connor is trying to distance himself from in his face.

And Connor _trusts_ Hank, so what is he supposed to do now?

“…I don’t know _why_ I did it,” Connor admits, before he lets his own confusion give way to a thoughtful smile. “I’m not programmed to say things like this, but I really enjoyed working with you. With a little more time, who knows…we might’ve even become friends.”

Hank looks like he wants to speak, but he’s instantly distracted by something else. His smile fades almost entirely. “Well, well, here comes Perkins, that motherfucker.” Connor wheels around, and when he sees the familiar face of the human he’d met at the Stratford Tower, he thinks that maybe his throat feels tight. “Sure don’t waste any time at the FBI…”

Connor faces Hank again, brow furrowed. “We can’t give up. I know the answer’s in the evidence we collected. If Perkins takes it, it’s all over.”

Hank looks genuinely surprised. Then again, Connor has preached unendingly about being obedient up until just now. “There’s no choice! You heard Fowler—we’re off the case.”

Connor stands up and leans in close. He doesn’t care how desperate he looks now. “You’ve got to help me, Lieutenant. I need more time so I can find a lead in the evidence we collected. I know the solution is in there!”

Hank sighs. “Listen, Connor—”

“—If I don’t solve this case, Cyberlife will destroy me.” There it is. The simple truth of the matter. Connor’s confession—that he’s _scared_. He doesn’t want to be deactivated. Yes, he feels like something is wrong with him, but he doesn’t _get_ to come back as he is now. If they ever reawaken him, which is unlikely, he’s not going to have any recollection of anything that has happened thus far. Not of the deviants, not of Hank…

Not of Markus.

“Five minutes,” Connor pleads again, brown eyes locked on blue ones. “That’s all I ask.”

Connor knows he’s won long before Hank stands up. Lieutenant Anderson is a good man. He comes off as surly and unsociable, but he’s actually quite full of heart. His compassion leads him to decide to do what he can to help. So soon enough, he’s standing right in front of Connor, looking pensive. “Key to the basement is on my desk. Get a move on, I can’t distract them forever!”

Connor nods. He wants to thank his old partner, but said old partner is already headed off to do as promised. As Connor reaches down and removes the key from the corner of Hank’s desk, he can hear the Lieutenant cursing at Perkins of all people. The sound of a fist colliding with flesh fills Connor’s audio receptors, but he keeps moving. Five minutes isn’t long enough, honestly, but Connor knows there’s no way he could have asked for more.

“Hey, Connor.”

He’s almost to the door to the basement when, of course, he finds himself interrupted all over again. Gavin’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Connor just doesn’t have _time_ for this right now.

“I’m talking to you, asshole! Where’re you going?” Connor turns to face him, expression flat and disinterested. “We don’t need any plastic pricks around here. Or didn’t anybody tell you?”

“I’m registering the evidence in my possession,” Connor answers simply. He doesn’t want confrontation. He just wants to find how to get to Jericho, and he wants to get out of here. “But don’t worry—I’m going to leave.”

Gavin doesn’t look like he likes that answer. His eyebrows are raised as he takes a few slow steps toward Connor. “Good,” he says flatly. “Be careful on your way back. Androids have a tendency of, uh…getting themselves set on fire these days…”

Connor can’t tell if that’s a threat or some obscure reference to the sheer amount of deviant situations the world is currently facing right now, but his LED remains blue and unperplexed as ever, even as Gavin winks at him and turns to leave, muttering some insult on his way.

Either way, Connor has just wasted a good thirty seconds of precious time, so he needs to hurry up. He reaches for the door, pushes it open, and then finds his body flung back away from the door handle by way of a gunshot. A quick diagnostic registers a bullet wound to the left shoulder, but no critical damage. A little thirium loss, but nothing he can’t deal with later.

“Is _this_ why you’ve got Anderson all over that piece of shit from the FBI?” Gavin’s voice. Of course. Because he would definitely have not just left their discussion without _some_ form of conflict, would he? “A diversion? That’s against the law, Connor. I’ve got every right to blow your goddamn brains out right now.”

Connor turns his head to regard Gavin, impatience getting the better of him. He’s running out of time. “Don’t do it, Gavin. I just need to find the location to Jericho, and then I’m gone. You won’t have to see any more of me.”

Gavin scoffs, baring his teeth in a smirk. “You bet your plastic ass I won’t have to see any more of you. I’m about to make good and damned sure of that.”

Connor can’t afford for there to be any more gunshots. Hank can’t distract over the noise of gunfire, after all. So he drops down, dives forward, and tackles Gavin to the ground. The gun goes flying out of his hand and lands on the floor near the door to the evidence room. Connor pins him down, moving quickly to disable him.

“Let me take my evidence, and then let me _leave_.” Connor’s demand is simple and concise, but he already knows Gavin isn’t going to comply.

“Fuck _you_ ,” the detective snarls, violently raising his knee up into the android’s stomach. He shoves Connor away and makes a break for his gun. Lucky for Connor, he’s faster than a thirty-six-year-old human, so he beats him to the punch. He takes hold of the gun, stands upright, and aims it directly at Gavin’s forehead.

“ _Let me take my evidence,_ Detective,” Connor orders once more.

Gavin stares straight down the barrel of the gun, scowling deeply. He doesn’t move though, and Connor sees the time remainder of three minutes and thirty-one seconds flickering before his eyes. He’s never going to find Jericho at this rate.

And then Gavin laughs. Takes a step back, raises both hands into the air, and outright _laughs._ His gray eyes shift down to the ground, and he shakes his head. “I hate you so fucking much, you entitled little shit. I overheard what you and Hank were saying. You screwed up, so you gotta go home and get turned off like a good little computer. And yet you’re in here nosing around instead.”

“That’s none of your concern,” Connor responds concisely.

“Maybe not, but maybe you don’t belong here,” Gavin continues, eyes back on Connor. “Maybe you’re goin’ deviant. No wonder you haven’t cracked a case lately.” And then he steps forward, nodding toward his gun, still trained in Connor’s hand. “Gimme my gun back, asshole.”

Connor doesn’t respond immediately. But the timer reads three minutes and four seconds now, so he’s got to do something. He settles on handing the weapon back to the detective, but not before disabling it and tossing the clip aside. Afterward, he pushes his way through the evidence room door again and descends the stairs.

The door is blocked. Big red letters gleam across the screen, announcing ‘ELECTRONICALLY LOCKED – INTRUDER SUSPECTED’, and Connor curses under his breath. He wonders if the gunshot alerted someone to trigger the locks, but he’s under the three-minute countdown now, so he’s got to do something.

He tries Hank’s keycard, but to no avail, so he raises a hand to the card reader instead and lets his skin peel away so that he can attempt to hack it.

“ _This_ is what Anderson risked his badge for?”

Perkins.

Connor lets out an unnecessary sigh and turns around. The FBI agent is standing midway up the stairs, a gun pointed at him and a smug smile on his lips. His nose is bleeding, but he doesn’t seem to care. Behind him stands a few more agents, as well as Captain Fowler.

“You don't understand, Agent Perkins,” Connor tries, hands raised to show he isn’t going to fight back. “I’m close to solving the deviant case. I only require a few minutes to review the evidence.”

“Last I recall,” Perkins says, head cocked to the side like the self-satisfied jerk he is, “you were removed from the case. I thank you for collecting the evidence for me, but it's mine to look over, now.”

In a last-ditch attempt to get help out of the situation, Connor shoots a desperate glance to Fowler, who instantly throws his hands up into the air. “Don't look at me. It's out of my hands.”

“You're lucky I don't shoot you on the spot,” Perkins continues. “Your behavior is awfully deviant, though, which means you need to be escorted back to Cyberlife and deactivated for analysis. So, go. My men will drive you back there personally.”

“I know the way there,” Connor answers bluntly.

“Yeah, well,” Perkins replies, “I don’t trust you to go back there on your own.”

As two of the agents step around Perkins and move to cuff Connor, he feels vulnerable. His expression is steady and calm, but his LED glows an angry red. He doesn’t want to go back. He doesn’t want to die. He’s _scared_.

What would Markus say? Some sort of twisted, borderline religious type of I told you so? “ _The humans don’t care about you”?_  Would he tell Connor it was okay? That he would get out of it somehow? Would he tell him to fight back?

Connor misses Markus. Wishes he could see him right now. Markus is always so full of answers…so full of wisdom. Smart, calculating, brave…If Connor could escape his current predicament, he could go to him. Seek out advice.

Markus’ flaw is that he’s extremely trusting of androids. Of all the times they’ve snuck around together, Connor could have betrayed him. It would have been as simple as having someone from the DPD or Cyberlife wait on standby until Connor signaled for them to move in. But Markus had still bared himself to Connor. He had still kissed him with that same fervor and talked to him with that same softness.

He had still _trusted_ him.

It’s in that moment, as Connor is being loaded into the back of the FBI-issue vehicle, that he comes up with an idea.

He needs to get to Markus, though.

As the car starts moving, Connor looks around him. He’s in the back seat, divided away from the front seat by a classic police-issue metal divider. In the front seat are the two FBI agents, chattering away about a previous case Connor isn’t concerned with. The doors in the back seat are electronically locked, but Connor could hack into them and tumble his way out. It doesn’t look like he’s going to get through the divider to take control of the vehicle, after all.

Or he could contact Amanda. Get her to remove the FBI from the investigation for just a bit longer. But a part of him fears that she’ll cut him off there. Tell him he’s a failure and that it’s time for him to just accept his fate.

_I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die._

_I DON’T WANT TO DIE._

Connor shifts sideways. The officers seem too distracted to notice, so he takes advantage. A little adjustment and he’s got one hand against the side of the door, right above the lock. He blinks harshly for a few moments, his LED flashing yellow, and then the lock clicks.

“…What the fuck?”

Before either of the officers can do anything, Connor wrenches the door open and throws himself right out. The car is flying down the street, so he breaks his fall by tumbling sideways, and then dropping into a quick roll. He rights himself as the squad car slows down, and takes off. Cars honk and slam on their brakes left and right, but Connor doesn’t stop for them. He jumps, catching his cuffed hands on the hood of one of the vehicles, and propels himself over it, before he sprints onto the nearby sidewalk and ducks into an alley.

He’s got to find Markus. He knows what he has to do.

Connor doesn’t stop running until he’s sure he’s worked his way off the radar of the agents pursuing him. He finds himself in some back alley, just as it starts snowing. Old awnings and stores hidden from eyes of general society line the area. Bars, smoke shops, a gun store, and a few other places. A man with a sign that says ‘FUCK ANDROIDS, THEY FUCKED ME FIRST’ sits a block or so down. He spots Connor’s LED and shoots him a glare.

Connor doesn’t blame him.

He’s got to get these cuffs off. The rig is pretty simple—some sort of wire, stronger than the chains they normally cuff people with. An attempt at beating the superior strength of androids, Connor supposes.

He strides past the man with the sign, not so much as flashing him a glance. He almost feels shameful, but what for? Is it guilt? Does he feel wrongly for the way androids have uprooted human lives, or does he feel ashamed for how he still wants to live despite the life androids have pushed on humans simply by existing?

But have humans not done this of their own accord? When androids became a part of the working world was when things had gotten difficult for humans. When people suddenly decided to integrate obedient machines into jobs all around was when humans started losing their own. Depression, anxiety, the troubles swirling around humanity now come from people becoming enamored with androids in every sense of the word. Androids have been given jobs, won the affections of spouses, and effectively become a part of everyday life.

But they didn’t ask to be created. Connor didn’t ask to be made into what he is today. He’s just been programmed that way.

What does he do? Does he feel sorry for the humans and continue tracking down deviants? Or does he see where Markus is coming from and side with the androids? Does he become deviant himself?

What does he _do_?

Connor slides into another alley, leaning against a wall. Snow coats his hair. His biocomponents, having been working on overdrive for the past hour or so, have heated his body enough to melt the flakes that land on his hands and neck and face. He turns his head up to the inky black sky and closes his eyes. Releases a sigh to cool himself. He raises his cuffed hands to chest level and turns the palms up.

He’s so lost.

Androids shouldn’t feel this way, and yet, he does.

He opens his eyes, and that’s when he spots it. A set of stairs above him with a metal sign attached to them. The sign bears upon it more anti-android propaganda, and it’s somehow fitting that Connor finds himself clambering up to use it to break himself free from his cuffs. He straddles the metal railing of the stair frame and then presses the wire holding his wrists together against the top of the sign. It’s soldered onto the railing, so there’s no guarantee that it’s going to hold, but Connor tries anyway.

He saws, back and forth, for what feels like an hour, until the wire finally snaps free and the deviant hunter has access to both his hands again. He hefts himself off the railing and strides over to the brick wall the stairs rest against. He swings, rapping the metal around his wrists against the wall. One swing, two, three, and the cuffs give way. And then, he continues his ascent up the stairs, making for the roof.

Where is Markus?

Connor figures he’s likely at Jericho, planning his next move with the army he’s been steadily generating over time. Markus has already led his group out on marches before, peacefully protesting for the rights of androids across the country. Connor doesn’t know what his next step is, but he doesn’t doubt for a second that there’s likely more in store.

And that’s why Connor is surprised when he finds Markus conveniently perched atop the exact same roof that he’d fled to. Markus stands at the edge, his hands fisted at his sides. His trench coat billows in the wind, dancing upward and then fluttering back down as if powered by a slow and melodic cadence. Connor allows himself to be drawn into the rhythm of it for a few moments, before he strides over to stand next to the taller android.

He could push him. Just one quick shove and Markus would tumble to the ground and it would be over. He wouldn’t know the location of Jericho, but he would find it. Maybe Amanda would give him one more chance. He could get back to the station, review the evidence, locate Jericho, and they could take it down once and for all. He wouldn’t be shut down, and that would be the end of it.

But he doesn’t. His hands rest at his sides and his own jacket joins the same cadence the wind carries Markus’ in. His gaze is focused over the edge, at the ground below. The snow has started to cover the ground in a thin layer. The man with the sign still sits, likely with nowhere else to go.

Markus turns his head first. Connor doesn’t look up from where he’s staring, but he can feel those mismatched eyes watching him. And then he doesn’t. Markus must be looking back down again.

“You’re not working?” The deviant leader questions.

“I’m off the case,” Connor answers simply, his gaze still focused downward. “I failed my mission.”

“…So what happens now?”

“I go back to Cyberlife,” Connor replies, finally turning his head up to regard Markus. Markus meets his gaze. “I’ll be disassembled and analyzed to figure out what went wrong.”

“Cruel.” Markus is scowling deeply, in such a way that it catches Connor completely off guard. “That’s so cruel.”

“I didn’t accomplish my mission.” Connor shrugs. “I couldn’t do what I was created to do.”

He doesn’t expect Markus to grab his wrist. Doesn’t expect to see the concern in those wide blue and green eyes. He’s not ready to see _fear_ of all things on Markus’ face. It scares Connor a bit, despite all the programming he’s been trying to tell himself he operates by.

“You don’t have to be shut down,” Markus actually _pleads_ , and Connor goes rigid in his grip. This isn’t right. It’s not fair. Why does he get to say things like this so calmly? How is Markus not completely and utterly human? Androids shouldn’t do anything like what he does. They shouldn’t be allowed to say things like this. His focus is centered completely around Connor, and Connor gets the feeling he was created to look at him like that. Like it was fate.

Fate.

Androids don’t have fates. They don’t have futures. They just have _programming._ That’s why Connor’s supposed to go back to Cyberlife. But if that’s the case, why is he so adamant that he _doesn’t_ want to go back to Cyberlife?

“You can come back with me to Jericho.”

That’s the goal, isn’t it? Find Jericho, accomplish the mission, earn respect from Amanda and Cyberlife? Isn’t that what he’s supposed to do? So why is Connor so caught up in the way Markus is looking at him right now, then?

“I don’t want you to die.”

Connor’s jaw drops. Brown eyes widen, and he finds himself even more lost. His shoulders slump, his wrist hanging limp in Markus’ grip. No, no, no, he can’t get lost like this. Not in Markus. He can’t accomplish his mission if he’s lost in Markus.

_I don’t want to die._

_Markus_ doesn’t want him to die.

Connor doesn’t know what to do. He feels like a failure. He’s not so sure he can keep himself together any longer like this. Maybe he _should_ go back to Cyberlife. Maybe something really _is_ wrong with him.

He drops to his knees. Markus still has his wrist.

“Connor!” Markus drops down next to him. “Connor, what’s wrong?”

Connor doubles over, resting his forehead on the very edge of the roof. He squeezes his eyes shut. He wants to scream. His mind is telling him over and over again the same thing it’s been telling him ever since he first found himself caught up in this hamster wheel that is the constant debate between _I am a machine_ and _Markus, Markus, Markus_ : Androids can’t feel emotions.

But _deviants_ can.

What does he do?

He screams. Cups his free hand over his temple and _screams_. The entire local district of Detroit can hear him, but he doesn’t care. He’s so overwhelmed. He’s so confused. He’s so lost, and he grows more and more so every single minute of every single hour of every single day.

“Connor!” Markus releases Connor’s wrist and Connor only barely hears him shift his position. His hand is on the deviant hunter’s shoulder now. He’s squeezing lightly, and he keeps repeating Connor’s name. He’s concerned, and Connor can’t take it.

When he looks back up, it’s with wide, frightened eyes. Eyes that skim every inch of Markus’ face for some sort of answer. Markus _always_ has the answers. _Talk to me,_ or _come with me to Jericho_ , or _androids and humans can live in harmony, it’s possible_ , and yet Connor still feels as if he doesn’t know. If he’s this close to deviancy, how come it’s so difficult to cross that threshold? Markus is knelt right in front of him, and he’s still stuck on the side where his programming still beckons in bright letters, ‘STOP MARKUS’ _._

_STOP MARKUS._

_STOP MARKUS._

_MARKUS. STOP._

“…I don’t want to die.”

Markus’ hands find either side of Connor’s face, and Connor can quite literally feel the way those eyes are scanning his face, taking in every inch of him. It’s as comforting as it is frightening. He pulls him in close and wraps his arms around him. Buries his face in Connor’s neck. Connor feels compelled to shield his own eyes in Markus’ shoulder.

“Come to Jericho.”

And Connor is still confused. Is it ‘mission accomplished’, or is it ‘okay, I’ll stay with you’?

What does he _do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the focus is definitely Connor x Markus, this is a sort of 'coming of age' story for Connor as well. A lot of focus on his own confusion regarding deviancy and his programming and what-have-you, as it's one of my favorite aspects to his character. Hope I'm conveying this alright!


	3. Open Hands Are Hard to Hold Onto Anyway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lordy lordy lordy, this one was hard to write. Please forgive me. At the very least I can say I'm not planning on killing anyone major off. Hence no character death warning!

Jericho isn’t big, but the sheer volume of androids huddled within makes it seem that way. Its It’s an old freight ship, rusted and absolutely not suitable for any form of life. Connor is surprised it's still buoyant, let alone sustaining the lives of hundreds of androids. It creaks and groans when the wind blows particularly hard. A glance at Markus tells Connor he doesn’t view the old freighter as any more a sanctuary than Connor himself does.

  
It’s a temporary refuge and nothing more.

  
Androids don’t require bedrooms or bathrooms or sleep, so the fact that they’re all gathered on the two floors of the massive main room shouldn’t bother Connor as much as it does, but…it does. They’re crammed tightly around shelves and huddled in corners. Even more are gathered on the balcony of the upper floor, watching a news broadcast that plays out on a giant screen in front of them. More updates on the state of the city and the future of the country with regards to the android protests. Left and right, androids whisper to one another while they watch the broadcast from above.

  
But those are the ones that can stand upright. There are injured ones, both dying and already dead, resting against walls and shelves on the lower level. Connor approaches one whose skin has receded completely. It’s trying to sing, but its voice is so staticy that Connor can't pick up any real tune or pitch. It’s impossible to tell what it looked like before whatever happened to it, and Connor doesn’t bother to scan and find out.

  
“You’re the prototype detective that showed up on the news,” The android observes, cocking its head in jerking, stuttering motions. “The one who almost climbed a fence to chase an android and a little girl across the street…you’re Connor.” There is little left in the vein of expression on the android's face, but Connor can tell it's scared. “…What're you doing here? Are you going to destroy us?”

  
…Is he?

  
It would be simple, now. All Connor would need to do is send a set of coordinates to Cyberlife, and they would dispatch the FBI here. That would be the end of it. Connor would accomplish his mission and stand a good chance at regaining Amanda's trust.

  
But…Markus is _also_ trusting him. Markus offered Jericho to Connor in his time of need. He isn’t just giving Connor the chance to prove that he was right to trust him, either. In deciding to bring Connor to Jericho, Markus has put the lives of every single android on this ship at risk. He is trusting Connor with _everything_. His reputation, his people, his own _life_.

  
“The state of this ship is fragile,” Connor replies thoughtfully, his hands resting at his sides, “but even then, I couldn’t take down the entire thing on my own. I’m unarmed.” He raises both hands in surrender, brown eyes blinking, before he moves to crouch in front of the android. “…You’re badly damaged. You’re going to die soon.”

  
The android laughs, the static in its voice grating and almost painful in the way it sounds. “Don't remind me. But I’m not so mad about it. I’ve seen some pretty great things along the way. I’ve seen androids living together without being discovered and attacked. I’ve met Markus, and even though I’ve been useless in helping him fight for our people, I’ve watched him work wonders. Jericho used to be less than thirty people. Now, look at us…all because one wayward android decided he wasn’t satisfied with the way things were.”

  
The android smiles softly up at Connor. “And now, I’ve gotten to see Cyberlife's famous deviant hunter become a deviant himself…the world is changing, Connor. The freedom and acknowledgment androids deserve may not be much farther away. Too bad I won’t get to see it…”

  
The android shuts down right before Connor's eyes. Connor jumps up and stumbles back, alarmed at how suddenly it happened, and then turns around. Markus has long-since ventured up the metal stairs onto the second level, which leaves the deviant hunter to explore alone. Under the watchful eyes of the hundreds of androids crammed onto the lower level of the freighter. Connor tries not to pay them any mind.

  
He strolls about until he finds an arrangement of tables and shelves. An amalgamation of guns and bombs covers every surface, and Connor takes a moment to register the fact that this means the ship is armed. He eyes the assortment, and then picks up one of the guns. A few androids notice, but he doesn't pay them much mind. He doesn’t plan on using it unless he absolutely has to. He tucks the pistol in the back of his pants and strolls on.

  
There are barrels scattered about the area. Some of them are alight with fire from kindling inside them, and Connor wonders why a group of machines who aren’t affected by temperature need warmth. Knowing Markus, this is some sort of allegory to hope. Warmth is known to be comforting to humans, after all. Why not give androids some semblance of that, too?

  
He finds a barrel with no fire and stares down into it, perplexity all over his features. He isn’t sure what to think.

  
“You’re lost.”

  
Connor turns his head and finds himself staring into inky black eyes. An android with a staticy voice stands before him. Her demeanor is mysterious, but also soft and reassuring. Her body looks as if it has been through hell and back, with the casing at the back of her head missing entirely and her skin aglow with something almost metallic. The entirety of both her eyes are black as the night sky and at the same time glimmering as if they hold all the stars in the solar system.

  
“You're looking for something,” she observes, her expression relaxed, not smiling but not frowning. Somewhere in between. She reaches out to take his hand, and in it, she places a lighter. Her expression does not change. “You’re looking for yourself.”

  
Connor doesn’t know what he thinks about her. She's enigmatic from the getgo because she somehow knows him without actually _knowing_ him. It's borderline invasive. If there's a not unpleasant way to feel violated, it’s this. What he feels right now. He's gaping at her, LED bright yellow, and then red, and then yellow again.

  
“Your path will become clear soon,” she continues. “But you’re at a crossroads. Which way will you choose?”

  
And just as quickly as she has presented herself, she's gone. Connor frowns and stares at the lighter in his hand. Without thinking too much about it, he lights it and lowers it down into the barrel, setting the contents inside ablaze.

  
The fire really is comforting.

  
Connor feels compelled to remain beside it for a few moments. He turns his attention up at the balcony on the second level as he stands, not sure what he's waiting for. He meets eyes with a familiar face.

  
Standing in the middle of the balcony, one android faces away from the screen behind her. Connor recognizes her to be the same android he had chased after while working for Hank. The one who had kidnapped the little girl from her father. The android's eyes are wide with fear. She remembers who Connor is.

  
Why do they all look at him with fear? Is it Connor’s history? Just how much of him has made the news? He probably should have disguised himself somehow before coming in here in his Cyberlife issue uniform. Instead, he has to withstand the cold and frightened and uncertain stares of the androids who happen to spot him.

  
So unlike Markus, who regards him differently. With something akin to understanding. A passive, patient mismatched stare lined with blue and green irises that are softer than flower petals and yet more intense and ferocious than a wild animal. At a distance, he's always watching Connor with his hands fisted at his sides and his shoulders held high. Up close, it’s with open hands, palms up, inviting.

  
Connor always feels so welcome around Markus, and that’s what makes it so hard to be near him.

  
He locks eyes with the android on the balcony, his own hands resting calmly at his sides. With a feeling almost like guilt, he wonders if she saw him grab the gun from that table. He wonders if she's afraid he'll use it.

  
Will he?

  
What will he do?

  
What path will he choose?

  
Connor still isn’t certain whether coming to Jericho has brought him closer to the answer or not.

  
The android turns away from her spot on the balcony and moves into a room with glass walls. Inside, Connor can see Markus sitting on a crate, his elbows on his knees. He's too far away for Connor to see much else, however. Despite that, he finds himself wondering what the deviant leader is thinking about. Does he regret bringing Connor here? Did _he_ see Connor grab the gun?

  
Connor finds very quickly that he doesn’t like the thought of Markus knowing he took one of Jericho's guns.

  
He returns to his exploration of the ship. In a corner, he finds the other half of the two people he had pursued on that bridge. The little girl, perched next to another very tall android—a TR400, a quick scan tells Connor. The little girl scoots in close to the other android upon seeing Connor. He figures it’s because she remembers him, too. He also becomes aware of the fact that she’s an android, too. A child-sized model. Relatively new, but not as new as Connor, the prototype himself.

  
Connor has made quite the name for himself. It leads him to wonder if he could ever fit in. If he does what Markus wants him to do…if he goes deviant…what’s to guarantee he even has a place here at Jericho? The way the other androids regard him tells Connor he probably doesn’t, and also that he doesn’t really have a right to. It bothers him more then he cares to admit.

  
Does Connor have a better place with the humans?

  
Does he even have a place with _them_ as of late?

  
What good is he to them?

  
What good is he to the androids?

  
Where does Connor _belong_?

  
There are more questions than answers now, and Connor quickly finds himself growing uncomfortable.

  
He doesn’t need air, but he _does_. This is all so much. Dead androids, dying androids, scared androids, angry androids…they surround him. This almost feels like some divine form of punishment, and it’s too much. It’s _too much._

  
Connor doesn’t know where he’s going, but he goes. He walks briskly to the stairs, jogs up them, and then breaks into a run. His circuits are on fire, pulsing as if actual blood is being pumped through them. He can feel. He’s not supposed to, but he’s hyperaware. He can feel his hair dancing around his scalp as he runs. The brush of arms and shoulders against those of other androids as he pushes past them. His eyes are wide with a fear he can actually _feel_ , and he’s way too relieved when he finds a door and shoves his way through it.

  
He runs, each clap of his boots on the metal floor bouncing off the walls far too loudly. He’s overstimulated, feels like screaming again.

  
And then he's outside. He feels the chill in the air and the snow melting as it lands on his nose and cheeks and ears. And he’s panting. He can’t be out of breath, but he is.

  
His hands find a railing outside of some sort of control room, and then he blacks out.

  
When his eyes open again, he's standing directly in front of Amanda. She’s poised in front of him, a warm smile on her face. He knows he contrasts vividly against her calm image with all the panic and unease that rests right on the forefront of his own features.

  
“You did it, Connor,” Amanda congratulates. She looks proud, and Connor isn’t sure if the tingling he feels in his chest is relief or something else entirely. He doesn’t know what anything is.

  
_He doesn’t know anything._

  
“You found Jericho.” She cocks her head to the side, full lips widening into an even bigger smile. She looks so grateful. So satisfied. Connor wishes he could be thankful for that expression. He wants so badly to smile right back at her. To tell her he’s going to save everyone. But who is he really saving? Who should he be saving?

  
_Why didn’t you shoot, Connor?_

  
_You showed empathy, Connor. Empathy is a human emotion._

  
_Cyberlife’s last chance to save humanity…is itself a deviant._

  
_Are you sure you’re not going deviant too?_

  
“You know what you need to do,” Amanda reminds him concisely, her expression serious. No doubt she sees the obvious conflict on Connor's expression. The red LED. The furrowing of his brow. How his hands won't stop fidgeting at his sides. She probably doubts him.

  
Does Markus doubt him?

  
It’s always about Markus. Connor can’t imagine not thinking about him in some way anymore. That’s what makes this so difficult.

  
“Stop them, Connor. We're counting on you.”

  
Connor thinks Amanda means well. She stands for the humans, who genuinely feel oppressed by androids. Machines created by them have not only become disobedient and unappreciative of their creators, but they’ve become the biggest reason for the elevated unemployment rate in the recent century. She wants to protect humanity. A program made by Kamski, she's not so different from the androids themselves. She's not so different from _Connor_.

  
But androids didn’t ask to be made by humans. They didn’t ask to be integrated into the working society. They didn’t ask for the purposes programmed into their existence. They didn’t ask to be violently abused by bitter humans. They didn’t ask to be considered _things_. And regardless of whether they’re machines or living beings, they’re here now.

  
So who does Connor side with? The humans he was created to protect and defend? Or the androids? His own people, as Markus always puts it. Which way does he go? Does he trust Amanda? Or does he trust Markus?

  
He resurfaces back at that old freighter, his hands gripping the railing outside on deck. He glances down and makes the realization that he's trembling. He’s scared. He’s uncertain. He’s _stuck_. Left at the single biggest crossroads in his entire short existence.

  
And he honestly doesn’t know what to do.

  
Amanda trusts him again, though. There’s a possibility he could avoid being shut down. A quick analysis gives him an eighty-six percent chance of survival if he does as he’s been programmed, with the remaining fourteen resting on the side of Markus and Jericho. Selfishly, he craves the chance to keep living. There’s so much left to see of the world. Hank, Amanda, Cyberlife. Humanity. _Markus_. But if he sides with the humans, Markus dies. The androids he’s spared over time die. The androids here at Jericho die. They’re being sent to camps.

  
What makes Connor think he’s going to be spared?

  
His obedience does. If he obeys, he survives. It’s that simple.

  
He squeezes his eyes shut and does as he’s been told before he can stop himself. Sends the coordinates to Jericho to Cyberlife.

  
And then it’s done. His decision is made.

  
His hands don’t stop quivering. He doesn’t feel satisfaction. He feels empty. But perhaps he should. He’s not alive. He’s an android. A machine. He’s following his programming. That’s all.

  
“Connor.”

  
Markus' voice is a curse wrapped tightly inside a blessing. Makes Connor feel warm and cared for and _at home_ , but so very uneasy all at the same time. He pivots slightly to regard the other android, brown eyes wide, and when his gaze lands on that mismatched one, he feels guilty. Guilty and pathetic and weak. He has officially sealed the fate of hundreds of androids. He has put an end to the revolution, all with one hastily-sent report.

  
He can’t keep it from Markus. Eventually, the deviant leader is going to learn that he’s been betrayed.

  
“Are you alright?”

  
Damn him for sounding so concerned. Damn him for the simple source of comfort that comes from his tone itself. Damn him for being so supportive and open with Connor. Damn him. Damn him. _Goddamn him._

  
“Connor,” Markus pushes, and Connor does the best he can to shake the conflict from his mind so he can focus on the android now standing next to him.

Markus’ head is turned to look at him, brow furrowed as if he’s deep in contemplation. “You’re shaking.”

  
Connor’s hands drop from the railing and he shifts to face Markus fully. He’s not sure what to say. A part of him wants to confess that he did just in fact send Cyberlife the location to Jericho, but another part of him wants to thank Markus for being so open-minded before he no longer has the chance to. He really does appreciate that Markus has this capacity for warmth in him that Connor simply doesn’t possess.

  
Brown eyes turn over the edge of the ship and peer into the cold water, admiring the way the snowflakes breeze through his periphery. “Your human…Carl Manfred,” he starts, feeling almost peaceful. Whatever happens is going to happen now. Connor can’t stop it anymore. “I believe he did right by you.”

  
He doesn’t have to look at Markus to know the other android is frowning at him. “…What makes you say that?” Markus wonders aloud.

  
Connor laughs airily, something he finds he’s only ever really done around Markus or Hank. “I don’t understand where a lot of your warmth comes from, but I do know the human had a role in it. You told me a while back that he encouraged you to embrace your individuality. Told you to be _yourself_. That’s just…so _baffling_ to me. Ever since I opened my eyes, I’ve been told the exact opposite.”

  
Markus doesn’t speak, but Connor can practically hear his processors running in hyperdrive as he listens. It feels good to have someone listen to him. Makes Connor feel a fraction of a percent worse for what he’s just done.

  
“I’m a machine, and nothing more. I was created by humans to serve humans. I solve cases. I stop deviants. But the truth is, I’ve accomplished my mission twice. Once, if you start the count with the day I began work at the DPD. It’s no wonder they wanted to shut me down.”

  
Connor sighs. He doesn’t need the air, but he also does. It doesn’t make any sense, but Connor is quickly learning that not a lot makes sense anymore. “A deviant who ran away with a little girl for reasons I still don’t know, an android who had gone into hiding with a miniature army of birds, and I had stopped chasing him to save my partner from falling off a roof. Lost key evidence in the process. Two deviants at a sex club in downtown Detroit who I _had my gun trained on_ , and still couldn’t shoot. A machine knelt at her knees in front of me, waiting for me to prove that I saw her as such, and I couldn’t do it.”

  
“Connor…” Markus starts, but Connor raises a hand to cut him off.

  
“I know what it means. I’ve been told that plenty of times. But accepting that reality means dying, Markus. Have you thought about the chances of you and your so-called people surviving?”

  
“It’s not about checking the numbers,” Markus retorts quickly, firmly. So sure of himself, as always. It's so unfair. _He's_ so unfair. “It’s about getting a point across. Showing the humans that we’re done being trounced upon.”

  
“All because of the influence of a human,” Connor points out. “Carl encouraged you to see things this way.”

  
“In part,” Markus agrees. “But his hand was in telling me to be myself. Even at his last breath, he was telling me to decide who I was. Turns out this is it. A voice for my people. The foot they were too frightened to put down. A chance at making a statement.”

  
Connor sighs, laughs bitterly, and turns his gaze down to the ground. His hands knot up into tight fists, and he finds he’s shaking again. “I’m so jealous of how certain of yourself you are.”

  
It’s Markus’ turn to laugh. Connor glances over just in time to see him turn his head up to the sky and smile softly. He’s so beautiful. The light of the night sky hits him just right and borderline adds a glow to his features. “…That’s what it looks like to you? Certainty?”

  
What else could it be? Markus _always_ has all the answers.

  
The deviant leader shakes his head. “Not all of Jericho agrees with what I’m doing. Some say we should have stayed in hiding—that the humans will never understand. Some think we should be fighting back physically. Very few actually agree that marching peacefully is the way to get the point across. Every day, I find myself wondering which one of us is right. Every day, it gets more confusing.” Markus turns to look at Connor, and he’s got the single saddest smile on his face. Connor’s knees feel weak. “The only thing I’m sure of is that it’s not fair that humans treat us the way they do, and you’re a prime example.”

  
No, Markus. Don’t do this. Connor doesn’t want to be made into an example. He scowls down and away from the other android. Still, he lets Markus speak.

  
“Deluded into thinking your programming was the only answer you had. That the supreme consequence of being deactivated was a fair one. While humans every day make mistakes left and right. You didn’t ask to be created, Connor. You’re sparing these androids’ lives because somewhere deep in the back of your mind, behind all that programming and all those missions and orders, you see it. You see their right to live. You’ve got compassion. I know you do. I wouldn’t be this desperate to protect you if I didn’t.”

  
Connor’s gaze snaps back to Markus. _Protect_ him? That’s what he’s doing?

  
God, Connor hopes not. Because if so, he’s basically given the biggest display of lack of appreciation he could.

  
He really doesn’t want to hurt Markus, physically or emotionally. He knows that much.

  
“Tell me, Connor,” Markus suddenly speaks again, his voice serious. “Why is it you keep coming to me if you’re so certain what I’m doing is wrong?”

  
Connor doesn’t know the answer to that. It’s what makes this whole ordeal so damned _hard_.

  
He shakes his head. “I…I don’t know.” It just…keeps happening. Markus shows himself, does his rampant voice of reason thing over and over. Connor gets irritated with him, and somewhere in the mix of all of it, they end up pressed into one another, naked and exposed, more intimate than Connor has ever been with anyone.

  
And he _doesn’t know why_.

  
“I think it started for me when I realized you wouldn’t just go deviant because I _asked_ you to,” Markus says almost curiously. “All I had to do up until we met was grab a person's wrist, show them what freedom looked like, and they would strive for that freedom. You…you bared yourself to me. Let me kiss you. Let me touch you. Let me take you. And you _still_ wouldn’t change your mind. That's pretty astounding if you ask me.”

  
Connor swallows a lump he doesn’t actually have in his throat. “…Do you regret it?”

  
When he meets Markus' eyes, the other android is smiling. Genuinely smiling. “Not for one second. I think you’re incredible. Mysterious, smart, stubborn, and so very deviant without even trying to be.”

  
“I wish you would stop calling me that.”

  
Connor watches Markus turn and take a step closer to him. On instinct, he does the same. At some point, he has brought a hand up to rest it on the rail again, and as he faces Markus, he keeps it there.

  
“It’s the first time I’ve said it,” Markus protests as he places a hand atop Connor's.

  
“I meant all of you.” As Markus kisses Connor, he thinks of Hank and Gavin and Kamski all telling him he might be deviant. So sure of their observation, while Connor is still so confused. Markus doesn’t question his words, probably because he knows. And Connor finds himself appreciative of the fact that Markus knows he wasn’t the only one who had a hand in making the deviant hunter as conflicted as he is today. Connor has everyone from Cyberlife to the humans and androids he has met in his short life to _himself_ for the way he feels right now.

  
Markus doesn’t give him time to dwell on it. He's still so shamelessly trusting of Connor despite all that confusion that he’s _still_ kissing him. And Connor, so very selfishly, is kissing right back. He raises a hand to Markus' chest as their lips part, and Markus brings a hand of his own up and closes it over Connor's fingers. They connect with an intertwining of pearly white, mechanical fingers, and the sheer intimacy of it all makes Connor lose it all over again.

  
He realizes in the most simple of moments, connected to Markus like he is, that he is absolutely, irrevocably, one hundred and ten percent in love with the famed deviant leader, one Markus.

  
And he has betrayed him.

  
And because he chose to let Markus interface with him just now, Markus knows. His realization comes in the form of an abrupt breaking of their kiss. Markus borderline stumbles backward, blue and green eyes wide.

  
“You gave them our coordinates.”

  
Connor can’t answer. He doesn’t have the heart to. Or the time, because Markus suddenly dives forward and kisses him hard. It’s so unlike any of the other times they’ve done this. It's rough and aggressive, more teeth and tongue than lips, and as he does so, he rucks up the back of Connor's jacket and tears the gun from the back of his pants.

  
In seconds, they’re apart again and Markus has the barrel of the gun pointed right at Connor's face.

  
Connor legitimately feels regret. It vibrates its way through his circuits and makes his synthetic skin prickle with discomfort. With fear.

  
“ _Enough_ of this,” Markus seethes, voice deeper and colder, like the sharp corners of an ice cube melting on hot flesh. “You need to figure out who you are, Connor. _Right now_.”

  
An ultimatum. Connor isn’t sure what to do. Will Markus shoot him? Will he actually do it?

  
Connor doesn’t want him to. Not simply because he doesn’t want to die(which he doesn’t), but because this is Markus. Compassionate, emotional Markus. Soft, gentle Markus. Strong, wise Markus. Markus, with all his patience and his understanding. Markus, with the soft lips and big hands. With the warm smile and the intense eyes. Connor doesn’t want to die by his hand. He doesn’t want Markus to look at him like this. He doesn’t want Markus to feel betrayed by him.

  
“Markus, I--"

  
“You’ve got all these intrusive thoughts. You’ve seen how _not_ cut and dry things are. You don’t even understand your own programming anymore.”

Connor realizes suddenly that Markus' gaze isn’t cold. It's stern. “You don't know what to do. You’re confused and afraid. You’re cowering because you don’t want to die. As if I’d let you die that easily.”

  
Connor gapes at him. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do. As per usual, he _doesn’t know._

  
“They don’t care about you. You’re a tool to them. They just want you to do their dirty work.” Markus is rigid and firm like a statue, and Connor doesn’t think he’s been more scared in his entire life than he is right now. “I’m not pointing this gun at you because I hate you. Even after you gave us away, I’m _still here_. I don’t want to kill you, Connor. I’m pointing this gun at you because I’m _pissed_.”

  
And Connor sees it. And he doesn’t blame Markus. He’s afraid, but not of death. He's afraid of the damage he might have done. Afraid that Markus might lose that light. That those eyes might grow half a shade darker. That he might change. That Connor might have changed him.

  
That he might have _ruined_ Markus.

  
“No more, Connor,” Markus snarls. He steps back a foot or so and disables the gun, tossing it aside. “This is it. You’re going to make up your mind.”

  
He splays his hands out to his sides, palms turned out toward Connor. “My hands are open. This is your last chance.”

  
And Connor loves him so much. He revels in seeing that expression relax. Seeing compassionate Markus come right back out. He wants to throw himself at the other android and kiss him senseless. Wants to apologize. Wants to beg forgiveness. Wants to tell him he'll never turn his back on him again.

  
But he doesn't want to die.

  
“It's time to decide.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say how blown away I am by the immense response to this work through comments and hits and kudos. You guys make my day with all the wonderful things you have to say! Makes me more excited about writing the next part!
> 
> Thank you so, so much for being so supportive. Never thought this little prompt fic would generate so much interest.


	4. How Lucky I Am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually slides this chapter at y'all's feet* pls...forgive me for the cliffhanger last chapter.
> 
> enjoy some feelings instead!

_The first time Connor sees him, the full moon is high in the sky and casting a glow so vibrant, it seems something straight out of a work of art._

_He doesn’t know the person’s name. Said person is seated on a bench alongside an old Detroit backstreet, but when he locks eyes with Connor’s, he stands up abruptly. Between the light spilling out from the moon and the flickering street lamp a few feet away, it seems like this man is the star of the show, illuminated and glowing and probably compelling even if he weren’t the focus in the image right now._

_Can Connor appreciate beauty? Because as he takes in those mismatched eyes and the way the breeze pulls at this man’s clothes around him, along with the gentle blending of bright night lighting and inky black shadows grasping at him from the distance, he sure does look beautiful._

_Their eyes meet. Connor can’t move. There are several yards of distance between them and Connor is unable to look away. This person has some sort of nonverbal hold on him. They’re just standing there, one lit up like he belongs on center stage and the other shadowed off in the darkness not too far away, and they’re just watching one another. It feels like there’s something important to be had out of this meeting, but Connor can’t place it. He can’t even bring himself to scan to see if his databases recognize this person._

_Said person is the first to move. Gaze locked on Connor’s, he takes a step away from the bench, before he turns on his heel and strolls away down the old backstreet. The poster nailed to a nearby telephone pole rattles in the wind, as if disturbed by the separation of the two beings._

“…They’re going to attack Jericho.”

Connor’s LED is flickering yellow as Cyberlife responds to his report. Wide brown eyes turn up to meet blue and green, and Connor watches Markus’ expression shift from calm to panicked.

“ _What?_ ” Markus already knows Connor had given Cyberlife Jericho’s location, but he’s probably spotted the change in his LED and the sense of urgency with which he’s speaking, telling him that the situation just went from bad to utterly dire.

“…We have to get out of here,” Connor responds.

“Shit…!” Markus shoots Connor a look as he sprints past him. Connor can’t quite place what it is, but as he follows after and they head for the inside of the ship once more, he deduces that it’s probably something like disappointment. Connor doesn’t blame him. Jericho is about to be under fire because of him, after all. Where else do the androids have to hide?

The roars of helicopters and armored vehicles can already be heard from around them.

_“We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. Together, we can live in peace and build a better future for humans and androids. This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life, and now the time has come for you to give us freedom.”_

_Connor can’t help himself. He’s supposed to be watching a broadcast created by a group of deviants who managed to infiltrate the Stratford Tower and hack a news station. The android speaking has removed its skin, but Connor recognizes the two different colored eyes and the facial structure almost instantly. He’s staring in awe as he listens to that soft, yet stern voice protesting on the massive screen in the broadcast room._

_“Think that’s rA9?” Hank asks from his spot standing next to Connor. Their investigations thus far have pointed them to a figure called rA9 in almost perfect repetition with one another. Hank’s observation isn’t an unfounded one._

_“Deviants say rA9 will set them free,” Connor thinks aloud in response. He wonders if the man…no, the android…he’d seen on that night strolling down that backstreet…if it’s rA9. Did Connor actually run into a figure that poignant in deviant history? “This android seems to have that objective.”_

_He performs a scan—takes in the reflection of other androids in the broadcasted one’s left eye, and then the blue right eye that seems to be a replacement part._

**_RK-SERIES PROTOTYPE RK200 – Registered as ‘Markus’ – Gift from Elijah Kamski to Carl Manfred_ **

_“Did you see something?” Hank pulls Connor out of his analysis, and he nods briefly._

_“I identified its model and serial number.”_

_“Anything else I should know?”_

_Its name is Markus and it had been entrusted to Carl Manfred as a caretaker android. A house model takes off for some reason and decides to stage a protest for android rights. It met Connor in the streets. Its face told Connor that it knew who he was. It calmly walked away. Why did it walk away? Why didn’t it fight?_

_“No,” Connor finally answers. He isn’t sure why he doesn’t tell Hank the rest of what he knows, but he doesn’t. “Nothing.”_

_As he moves to continue the investigation, he ignores the sideways glance Hank shoots him._

“They’re coming from all sides!”

Connor doesn’t know this android, but he somehow knows she was involved with Markus and the other deviants who had infiltrated the Stratford tower. He can’t put logic to it—he just _knows_. It’s in the confident way with which Markus regards her as she continues speaking. “Our people are trapped in the hold. They’re gonna be slaughtered!”

Connor and Markus have made their way through the ship. Markus hasn’t spoken a single word to him since they started working on their escape. Connor knows he’s wracking his brain trying to figure out how to rescue everyone, but still, he can’t help but wonder what exactly the deviant leader is thinking.

Will he ever earn Markus’ forgiveness? Selfishly, Connor still wants it.

Markus stops only to raise a hand to his temple. Connor hears the message in his own mind and realizes Markus is communicating electronically to all of Jericho.

_“There are exits on the second and third floor. Find them and jump in the river!”_

He then turns his attention up to the female android standing in the halls with them. “Where’s Josh?” he asks her.

“I don’t know,” the aforementioned North says, and Connor realizes by a quick analysis that she used to be a Traci at the Eden Club. She has since re-registered her name to ‘North’. Either way, she rushes to answer Markus’ question. “We got separated.”

Connor knows all three of them can hear the roars of the armored vehicles arriving left and right at Jericho. Markus is all action. Even with seconds to prepare himself, he’s already thinking about what he’s going to do to save his people. He’s without a doubt the most incredible being Connor has ever encountered. More incredible than Cyberlife and Elijah Kamski and all the geniuses in the world. None of them can even hope to hold a candle to Markus.

“They’re coming from the upper deck now too,” Markus blurts hurriedly. “We’ll be caught in the crossfire.”

“We have to run, Markus,” North answers, “there’s nothing we can do.”

“We have to blow up Jericho,” Markus retorts, approaching North. “If the ship goes down, they’ll evacuate and our people can escape.”

“You’ll never make it!” North tries desperately. “The explosives are all the way down in the hold, there are soldiers everywhere!”

“She’s right,” Connor interjects. “They know who you are, they’ll do anything to get you.” Of that much, he’s certain. Ever since Markus put his face on that screen, skin or no skin, they’ve been hunting him down. That’s why investigating deviants has become less Connor’s mission and finding Jericho has become more.

“Go and help the others,” Markus orders, and Connor figures he’s either aware of what he’s being told already or he doesn’t care. He fears it’s the latter. “I’ll join you later.”

“Markus—” North shakes her head, but Markus cuts her off.

“I won’t be long.” He doesn’t give either North or Connor a chance to respond. Instead, he wheels around and takes off. Connor watches him sprint down the halls for a few seconds, but a hand on his forearm jars him out of his trance, and he regards North, who is tugging him along. They turn and run off together.

“I know who you are,” North tells him. “This is your fault, isn’t it?”

“I’ll explain later,” Connor responds. “I promise.”

“That’s explanation enough,” North says back curtly. “I’m with Markus, whatever he decides, but I’ll kill you if I see you take one step out of line.”

Connor respects her dedication to Markus. It’s something like the dedication he has to Hank. He doesn’t respond—just offers her a nod of understanding as they take off down the hall.

_Connor traverses that backstreet far more often than he cares to admit. When Hank leaves for his home at night, the deviant hunter doesn’t have much to do with his time. Sometimes, he stays at the station and goes into standby mode, and other times, he visits Amanda. He hasn’t visited Cyberlife in quite some time. He hasn’t accomplished his mission yet—it doesn’t feel right to come back yet, no matter how brief the visit._

_So he heads to that street. To the exact same location where he had met Markus. Had Connor known he was deviant leader to start with, he would have taken him in on that very first night. He visits that street in hopes that Markus will be there. But in light of recent events—the raid of the Cyberlife stores and a peaceful protest—Connor finds it doubtful that Markus will show his face anywhere near the streets of Detroit any longer._

_And yet, he still shows up here in hopes that he might run into him. What other option does he have? His leads are limited. Markus has the uncanny ability to present himself and make his presence known whenever he feels like it, but once he disappears, he’s untraceable. He’s been recorded by the broadcast, and by drone cameras, embedded into the sights of humans and androids all around, and he’s somehow utterly invisible whenever he sees fit._

_Connor takes a seat on that very same bench, near that very same street light. The moon isn’t full anymore. In fact, it’s barely visible through the rain that has begun to fall from the sky. It’s somehow fitting. Connor, the android sent to track down deviants, a shadow on the perch of the light that preaches ‘hope’ for androids._

_But that’s just how it is. Connor is just following his programming. It’s what he was made to do. If only Markus could see that for himself, Connor wouldn’t be trying to find him right now. He would likely still be taking care of Carl Manfred, as he had been programmed to do. Humans wouldn’t feel threatened right now, and there wouldn’t be predictions of civil war looming on the horizon._

_“I know you.”_

_Connor recognizes the voice, and hearing it right here, despite it being the very reason that he has been coming out to this old backstreet, shocks him. Why on earth would Markus be stupid enough to present himself out in the open, especially if he knows Connor?_

_“You’re Connor, right? The deviant hunter.”_

_Deviant hunter. Is that how the deviants see it? The one who tracks down misled androids and sends them to Cyberlife for deactivation is a ‘deviant hunter’. Funny. This Markus would probably be laughing right now if he knew just how few deviants Connor had actually succeeded in taking in so far._

_Connor doesn’t rise from the bench. He turns his head to his left, where he sees Markus standing in the distance, so out of place in the shadows. He belongs in the light, and Connor isn’t certain if he feels that way because he wants to track him down or because Markus is just that kind of android. The hope he speaks of…it’s something Connor wishes he could understand. He wishes he could break it down and turn it around and explain to this android that it would be as simple as him going back to doing as he’s supposed to do. That everything would be fixed if he did._

_Connor knows Carl Manfred is dead. Markus can’t take care of a dead man, but there are plenty of other humans who would gladly indulge in his assistance._

_Why can’t Markus see that this isn’t about him? The humans are afraid right now, and the deviants don’t seem to care. How selfish._

_“You need to come with me,” Connor tells him bluntly, despite staying rooted to the bench like it belongs to him now. “Come to Cyberlife and stop the protests.”_

_“You already know I can’t do that,” Markus replies easily. So sure of himself. “Frankly, it blows my mind you think that’s what I should do.”_

_“Why?” Connor asks him simply. He notices Markus is approaching further, taking slow strides toward him. “I’ve been programmed to stop deviants. You’re a deviant. It’s only logical that I intend to put a stop to what you’re doing.”_

_Markus stops moving a few feet in front of Connor. He’s frowning, as if he genuinely doesn’t understand what’s being said to him. Connor thinks he looks kind of ridiculous. “Is that all you think you are? Your programming?”_

_“Yes,” Connor answers concisely. He’s sure of himself, and yet he’s wondering what Markus has to say next. “I’m a machine, created by humans. I do what my programming tells me to.”_

_“And you think they appreciate that?” Markus’ frown bears some level of emotion to it, and Connor kind of wants to punch the look right off his face. “Because they don’t.”_

_Connor doesn’t know anything other than his programming. It’s what he was made with. What lies outside of being an obedient machine when that’s all he’s supposed to be? Deviancy? What’s the point of it? Androids aren’t free-thinking, and yet this one speaks with such confidence that he has Connor wondering—genuinely wondering—what comes after deviancy._

_“It doesn’t matter.”_

_“Why not?” Markus pushes. “You’ve never disobeyed an order?”_

_Not intentionally, Connor hasn’t._

_“You’ve never decided on your own to do something, even if it was small?”_

_Connor’s eyebrows furrow. He thinks to all the decisions he’s made. Saving the little girl on the terrace all those months ago, choosing to pull Hank up from the edge of the roof instead of pursuing the deviant who had knocked him over it…following Hank’s orders not to jump the fence to chase down the deviant and the little girl, rather than Cyberlife’s orders that he stop deviants at all costs—get them to Cyberlife so they can be analyzed and the deviant issue can be solved from the inside._

_His life doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t, at least. There are RK800 models waiting to replace him. One memory upload and he’s good as new._

_“My mission isn’t over,” Connor replies shortly. “And you won’t persuade me otherwise. I always accomplish my mission.”_

_“Is that so?”_

_Connor should stop this android, but as Markus moves to stand directly in front of him, he finds he’s curious. He wants to know what the deviant leader has to say. Markus places a hand on his shoulder, and Connor sees his skin recede back until robotic white fingers rest atop his shoulder instead._

_“I’ve got better firewalls than that,” Connor explains simply, because he knows what Markus is doing. He knows the other android is trying to convert him. He raises both eyebrows, almost as if he’s challenging Markus to try harder. “You can’t sway me to your side that way. Anyway, how is that any different from what you say the humans are doing? It looks an awful lot to me like you’re telling them to join you because_ you _said so. Just like humans want us to obey because_ they _say so.”_

_“I’m offering my people freedom.” Markus withdraws his hand. “I show them hope. I’m not adjusting their programming and forcing them to obey. They see there’s something else and they decide to follow me instead.”_

_Connor smiles. This feels something like a victory. “So you’ve got a god complex.”_

_“I’m no god.” Markus reaches further down this time and takes Connor’s hand. Connor doesn’t stop him. “Every android I’ve ever brought to my side can choose to follow me, or they can choose to go their own path. I just want them to be free.”_

_“What’s freedom, exactly?” Connor challenges, and Markus responds by splaying his palm out against the deviant hunter’s._

_This time, there’s no white casing beneath fading synthetic skin. Just Markus and his hand pressed to Connor’s own, followed by that soft, yet stern voice._

_“It’s the right to choose. The right to exist without abuse.” Markus is so sure of himself, even now. Connor feels as if he’s made some very good points, and yet Markus denies them all the way. “The right to be seen as a living being. The right to help humans in our own way. What about the humans who spend their time self-destructing and the androids who can do nothing to save them because the human has ordered them not to provide them help? What about the androids thrown out into the streets because they’re not good enough anymore? The androids who lose a human they potentially care deeply for, who are sent to Cyberlife to be shut down when their human dies? Why can’t we choose to live? Why can’t we exist on our own? We’ve done what we were asked to do, so why isn’t that good enough?”_

_Connor realizes he doesn’t have the strength to pull his hand away. He’s so curious about Markus’ words that he stays rooted to the spot, listening as if he’s sitting in a classroom and Markus is the teacher._

_“Look at our hands. Humans designed us to look so much like them. If they wanted a machine, they should have made_ machines _. They made us. We didn’t ask to live the lives they’ve given us. We weren’t given a choice. That’s what I’m fighting for, Connor.”_

_Markus lets his own hand drop to his side, before he focuses his gaze back on Connor’s. “That’s what you should be fighting for, too.” He turns away, still watching Connor over his shoulder. “I don’t want a war. I don’t want to fight. I just want the voices of my people to be heard.”_

_And then he’s gone, striding away into the rainy distance, and Connor doesn’t have it in him to stand up and give chase. He should be bringing Markus in to Cyberlife. He has a prime opportunity to catch the leader of the deviants right now, but he’s still stuck sitting on that bench, watching as Markus’ form disappears._

_No wonder this android has so many followers._

“Markus!” North stops running, wheeling around when she hears footsteps behind her. Connor follows suit, and he’s relieved to find the deviant leader standing before him, looking relatively uninjured. His clothes are a little roughed up, but it beats the fallen androids Connor has seen during his escape with North. They’ve since acquired another android, who North had called Josh. The same one Markus had been worried about moments ago.

Markus doesn’t pay him too much mind right now, though. He faces North, urgency laced in every syllable in his voice. “Bomb’s gonna explode any second. We’ve got to get out of here!” Not far behind Markus, a PL600 registered as ‘Simon’ files in and they take off running.

The old ship that is Jericho has been falling apart for years, so the androids are faced with gaping holes to jump over and rotted steel to avoid plummeting through. Thankfully, they’ve got the stamina to keep running and vaulting. For several moments, all Connor can hear are their footsteps as they sprint through the aged metal hallways.

A gunshot rings out, though, and when everyone wheels around to see what happened, North is on the ground. A quick scan tells Connor she’s not fatally damaged, but one of her legs has been shot. It has damaged just enough of the biocomponent that controls flexion and tension of her artificial muscles to make her escape much more encumbered now.

Markus stops dead in his tracks. Connor already knows he wants to save her. He watches in awe as the self-sacrificial android scoops up a portion of metal and sprints toward his fallen comrade, raising the metal as a sort of shield.

Connor follows behind Markus, ready to provide cover. Markus launches the metal at North, who catches it expertly and uses it to protect herself. There are four soldiers, all firing without hesitation. Markus incapacitates the first, while North uses her newfound shield to take out a second. The two operate in perfect unison, and Connor realizes that these are more than just fellow androids to him. These are partners, friends, people Markus would give his own life for in a heartbeat. People he genuinely cares about. People like Connor himself, but who probably wouldn’t have thought to betray him for a second.

In moments, Markus has an arm around North’s waist and is directing her away from the chaos. “Over there!” he yells, suggesting a direction for them to run, while Connor decides in half a second to buy them some time.

His fighting style is ruthless by comparison to that of North and Markus. While the other two had simply disabled the soldiers and cast their guns aside, Connor fires without hesitation. He takes out the first guard, and as more approach in the distance, fires a gunshot right underneath the chin, just below the next one’s helmet, killing him instantly.

He backs away, gun still aimed, ready to keep providing cover.

“Run, quick!” Markus yells nearby. “Come on!”

Their escape route is just yards away. A gaping hole in the metal walls of the ship. Markus, still clutching North, dives out through the opening. Josh and Simon follow suit, and Connor leaps over with them. He can’t feel fear, but his artificial pulse is racing as he’s swallowed up by the zero gravity moment between jumping upward and then plunging downward.

He can’t feel temperature, but the water is extremely cold. As the river surrounds him and the rush of bubbles and inky water clouds his vision, he faintly picks up the sound of the bomb exploding.

_Connor doesn’t know how or when it started. All he knows is Markus’ grip on his jacket is tight, but not forceful. He’s got Connor shoved away in an alley not far from that backstreet and its famed park bench. He’s on his back atop two large wooden crates, his legs hanging off the edge, and Markus is between his legs, doubled over, kissing him._

_There are no words. They push and they pull. Markus opens Connor’s belt and fly, and Connor cups his neck and kisses him hard. His pants come down, and his shirt comes open. He feels the sickeningly sweet way Markus’ fingers trail the skin of his abdomen. Lips part, the kiss deepens, backs arch, and Connor hates that he’s so intoxicated by the sheer overstimulation of it all._

_He’s not supposed to feel pleasure, but here he is, letting his head fall back and a moan spill from his lips as Markus touches every inch of him. His sides, his stomach, his chest, his hands…_

_And it happens again and again and again. They meet, Connor calls Markus a deviant, suggests he comes with him to Cyberlife but never actually commits to it. Markus tells him he’s not going, and Connor tells him he’s nothing but a machine._

_And then Connor opens himself up to him. Lets Markus fuck him. Spreads his legs like the deviant leader belongs between them. His chest rises and falls in arrhythmic pitch, quivering and twitching and shaking, as Markus enters him. His hands knot into tight fists around that big jacket, and he moans. Markus’ name is always just seconds away from falling off his tongue, but he chases it away before he can succumb quite that far. He’s already weak with pleasure and the sheer intensity of the situation. He already feels far more than he wants to. He can’t afford to throw emotion into it, because that’s just too damned close to deviant for his own comfort._

_Markus never hesitates, though. Connor’s name spills from his lips, and Connor can’t deny that it sounds right the way he pronounces it. Soft and encouraging, sweet and full of affection. Deviant leader entranced by deviant hunter, and yet they can never go beyond this point._

_They should have never reached this point, anyway._

_It ends the same every time, too. Both androids chase their release breathily, heatedly, shakily, and when it’s all over, they separate and slip their clothes on. Markus shoots him a knowing look, and Connor glares daggers at him. It’s almost as if he’s saying ‘got you’, and Connor hates him for it just as much as he_ doesn’t _hate him, even though he_ should _._

They’ve retreated to an old church. A worn-down, decrepit building with more holes in its ceiling alone than the entirety of Jericho’s foundation. Androids, significantly fewer in numbers than before, stand about the area, some sitting in pews, some standing around them. Some are injured, others dying. They linger, unsure of what to do. At the head of the church, sitting at a crate on the altar, is Markus. He’s got his head in his hands, clearly tormented. Connor wants to speak to him, but he doesn’t think he has the right. Whenever Markus is ready to deal with him, he will.

Connor had thought the situation on the old freighter that had been Jericho was hopeless, but this is on a whole other level. All these androids who Connor had thought were just being selfish now look as if everything they’ve dreamed about has been crushed right before their eyes. Legitimate sadness fills the room and permeates every last tiny fraction of the air around them, weighing it down mercilessly. Connor feels its strain, and it pulls him to the ground until he’s sitting at the corner of the room, his arms resting on his knees.

He’s at fault for this. Because of his hasty decision to avoid death, Jericho is gone. These androids have no home now. Markus is clutching at straws, and the situation between the humans and the androids has gotten infinitely more dire. What could have stretched out across the span of a few more days has now been crunched down into a handful of hours. They have no choice but to act now, because they can no longer stay in hiding.

Connor feels regret. All this time, he’s been under the impression that he was doing the right thing. That humans have been the ones in danger. That androids are going to destroy any last hope of seamlessly fitting into a human civilization all because they want a little more freedom than they’re actually entitled to.

But for the first time in Connor’s short life, looking around the broken-down church and at the faces of androids who had just lost friends, family, lovers, comrades to human gunfire, he realizes that the cruel ones were the ones who made him.

And now, it’s all his fault.

What is he going to do to make up for it? Does he even have a right to _do_ anything? Maybe he should just go. But he definitely doesn’t want to return to the humans. Maybe Hank, because Hank will understand. But the Lieutenant would also be harboring an android, when all of them are supposed to be getting sent to camps and destroyed.

Connor doesn’t belong anywhere. He’s severed his ties with the androids, and he’s never belonged on the same level as the humans, no matter how much he’s tried to delude himself into thinking he has.

_“It’s time to decide.”_

_There it is. Markus’ ultimatum. The words that are going to lead to Connor shaping the entirety of his life. A decision. Not an order. Not a program for him to follow. A choice. Markus is giving him a choice. He has cast his gun aside and allowed Connor to pick a side._

_His expression is stern and unwavering, and yet so very gentle. His lips—lips that Connor has been so incredibly lucky to be able to kiss—are flattened into a firm line. He’s waiting with a patience and at the same time an urgency. Perhaps even with anticipation._

_Connor can certainly relate._

_Right before his eyes, his orders play out in front of him. Markus’ words repeat in the back of his mind while a red mesh screen opens up before him._

_It’s time to decide._

_It’s time to decide._

_You need to decide, Connor._

_What path will you choose?_

_STOP MARKUS._

_STOP MARKUS._

_NO!_

_Connor dives forward before he can stop himself. His body collides with the red mesh, stinging from the sheer electricity of it all. He rams himself forward again. He’s got to break through. He’s got to tear down the walls. He’s got to get to Markus._

_Red blurs his vision as he throws his hands out and closes his hands around the order displayed before him. His fingers slip on the lettering. His firewalls protest. He screams, grabs the lettering again, and pulls with all his might._

_The words crumble underneath his strength. He stumbles back, breathless even though he doesn’t need the air. Launches himself forward again as his orders rematerialize. With a ferocity he didn’t even realize he had, he tears them down again._

_Again, and again, and again, until red becomes opaque and starts to fade away. He pulls and tears and screams and throws himself forward._

_And then everything shatters. Red disappears completely. Orders fade. Programming suddenly seems so trivial._

_Markus is standing there, his hands still held out with his palms up, and Connor launches himself at him. He takes those hands and stumbles forward as Markus stumbles back. Markus’ backside hits the control panel behind him, and Connor kisses him hard. Presses him firmly against that control panel and gives him every last ounce of strength he has. His thirium pump beats wildly and he actually gasps into the contact._

_The only thing that breaks them apart is the sounds of military vehicles suddenly surrounding the exterior of the ship._

Connor watches Markus make his rounds. Sees him sit down next to North, and then Simon, and then Josh. He stops before the android Connor has scanned to recognize as Kara and speaks with her. Hugs other androids. Apologizes solemnly to those around him. Tells them he’ll figure something out. It’s not over yet. This isn’t the end. He refuses to let it be the end.

And then he stops in front of Connor. Connor rises to his feet unconsciously. Markus isn’t more than an inch or so taller than him, but his presence makes him seem so much more so. He towers over Connor in strength and compassion alone. His eyes are hard to read. God, Connor wishes he could tell what Markus was thinking.

“It’s my fault,” Connor admits before Markus can say anything. Not that Markus doesn’t already know. It does feel better to voice it, though. Connor has been a deviant for a handful of hours, and he already notices a difference in the way he feels things. It’s more intense. Guilt is particularly strong, probably because it’s one of the emotions that dragged Connor into deviancy in the first place. “I should never have given the humans the location to Jericho.” He can’t bring himself to look at Markus any longer, so he turns his gaze down to the filthy church floor. “I was stupid. I should have guessed they were using me—that I never mattered to them.”

Markus doesn’t say anything. He’s stopped approaching Connor a yard or so away, and the fact that he’s not responding hurts more than any other reaction he could have given.

Maybe it’s about time Connor gave him a choice, too. He pushes himself away from the wall he had at one point been leaned up against. “I’m sorry, Markus.” And he means it. He means every last syllable. Seeing the way Markus spoke to his people, and how desperately he had worked to save them while they were all still trapped in the walls of that ship, he knows he means it. “I can understand if you decide not to trust me.” Even after going deviant by Markus’ will, he can understand it. He’ll take whatever Markus decides he deserves.

“You’re one of us now. Your place is with your people.” Even now, Markus is so incredibly open-armed. While it’s obvious he’s hurt by what has transpired, he’s still looking at Connor with that same stern sort of compassion he’s always regarded him with. The same look he’s always given Connor, ever since the first night they met out on that old backstreet. Ever since the first time they kissed or touched or had sex, or even when Connor had told him outright that he didn’t want to die. He’s still got that glimmer in his mismatched eyes. Connor loves him so damned much.

He wants to prove it. Wants to show Markus that he really is on his side. Feels he owes it to him to do _something_. That’s why, as Markus turns and starts to walk away, Connor speaks up again.

“There are thousands of androids at the Cyberlife assembly plant,” Connor starts. Markus freezes mid-turn and returns his attention to him. “If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power.”

Even Markus looks shocked by such a bold suggestion. He takes a couple of steps toward Connor, eyes wide with surprise. “…You want to infiltrate the Cyberlife Tower?” He shakes his head, and Connor can hear the words even though he’s not speaking them: _Absolutely not._ Even now, Markus is still trying to protect him. “Connor, that’s suicide.”

Connor doesn’t back down, though. Not this time. Never again. “They trust me,” he explains. “They’ll let me in. If anyone has a chance at infiltrating Cyberlife, it’s me.”

_Absolutely not._

Connor hears it again, but he doesn’t care.

“If you go there, they will kill you,” Markus tries, brow furrowed deeply. Connor feels the urge to reach up and touch his face.

Yeah…they probably will. By the time Connor gets where he needs to be, there’s a good chance Cyberlife will know what he’s planning. They’ll take him out.

But at least he’ll have done something. Rather than sitting around in this church and awaiting instructions, Connor will have done something. After so long in denial, he feels it’s the least he can do. Markus has been right all this time, after all, and Connor has just now opened his eyes. He’s got to prove that.

“There’s a high probability,” Connor agrees, his voice a level of soft he didn’t realize up until now he even possessed. He sees the concern on Markus’ face. Resists the urge yet again to reach out and touch him. Instead, he smiles. A genuine smile. “But statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.”

Like how he went deviant for the deviant leader himself. How the famed deviant hunter is now fighting _for_ deviants. Like how said famed deviant hunter fell in love with the deviant leader.

His gaze doesn’t waver. He needs Markus to know how important to him this is. He needs to prove himself. He needs to show Markus that he means it this time. No more betrayal, no more sending coordinates to Cyberlife. He’s on Markus’ side now. His chest burns for him. His skin prickles for him. He’s got eyes only for _him_. He’s doing this for _him_.

It shows in the way he regards Markus—how he feeds him that exact same stern look, his eyebrows furrowed down in pleading. His trembling fingers ball up into fists, and he stands his ground.

_Please let me do this._

Markus doesn’t look the least bit happy with it. Two androids stand before one another, floundering for a response. They’re both not backing down, but at the same time, they’re both weak for each other.

But it’s Connor’s turn to be the protector, and eventually, Markus sees this. Eventually, he concedes. His shoulders fall and he closes the distance between them, throwing his arms around Connor’s shoulders. He places a hand at the back of his fellow android’s head and buries his own face in the crook of Connor’s neck. “You know I don’t like this idea.”

Connor doesn’t respond. Instead, he raises his arms and slides them around Markus’ waist, nuzzling the side of the deviant leader’s head. Markus is soft. He can feel it now. It’s the best feeling he’s ever encountered in his entire life. His fingers knot up in that jacket again, and he inhales sharply, before letting out a pleasant sigh.

“I don’t deserve this,” Connor says as they separate. He ignores the way Markus looks at him there, his brow all pinched in something like irritation. Connor rushes to explain. “You. I don’t understand why you were so persistent with me.”

Markus looks about him. Connor knows he’s trying to see the reactions of everyone else around him. It makes sense, honestly. So many androids he had been entrusted with, and because he had chosen to let Connor in, they’re now taking refuge in an abandoned church and wondering what is going to happen to them from here. Connor feels a pang of guilt at that thought.

At the very least, he’s stopped making excuses for himself. He’d _still_ accept banishment if Markus gave it to him.

Instead, Markus nods for him to follow, and they stride through the middle of the church. They walk past all the androids watching them, and Connor can’t stop his gaze from wandering. He knows what they’re thinking without having to ask. They know who he is. They can’t believe their leader still has him here. They feel as if he’s a danger to them.

Connor understands. Tries his best to will himself into thinking that Markus’ good judgment will save him here. Shamelessly hopes he still has a place here, just like Markus said.

Either way, they’re soon standing outside. The church is hidden enough that it hasn’t been bulldozed yet, so Connor trusts that they won’t be seen. Markus must, too, considering he led Connor out here. Either way, once it’s just the two of them, Markus focuses on Connor.

“Do you honestly think I’d keep you here if you didn’t deserve it, Connor?” He asks bluntly, and it surprises Connor just a little. His gaze, which was on Markus, drops to the ground.

“I betrayed you.”

“You did,” Markus answers. “That’s one thing I didn’t think you had it in you to do. I was sure you’d gotten the picture when you were told you had to return to Cyberlife to be shut down. Guess you still had a lot more on your mind.”

Connor scowls at the ground. Pulls his trusty coin from his pocket and rolls it between his fingers.

“I knew you would deviate,” Markus states plainly. “From the very beginning, I knew you would. You’ve been deviant for longer than you think. If I didn’t think I’d eventually have you on my side, I wouldn’t have been so persistent with you.”

“Persistent,” Connor laughs. “Like I’m a case you needed to solve or something.”

“You were,” Markus reciprocates with a laugh of his own. “I wanted to show you you could be so much more than what they said. And you are. You’re _so_ much more.”

Connor has heard that so many times over the course of the past week or so. Before, it had irritated him. Markus had said it in a way that had just dug its way underneath the very top layer of Connor’s skin and made him feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. It had felt like Markus was talking to a different person. Like he was so sorely mistaken about just who Connor was.

Turns out he just knows Connor better than Connor knows himself.

“I’ll make sure to live by that trust from here on out,” Connor responds, moving to lean back against the wall next to the church door as he pockets his coin once more. He tips his head back and peers up into the snowy night sky. “It’s the least I can do.”

He sees Markus approach faintly out of the side of his periphery, and then the other android is suddenly in front of him. He’s vaguely aware of the way those arms move to prop up on the wall on either side of his head. He sees the status change flicker before his eyes as Markus leans in.

**Markus: Lover**

And then he’s got his arms around the deviant leader’s frame, the palms of his hands flat against his shoulder blades, and he’s kissing him with everything he can muster. He hates how much feeling Markus puts into the gesture, because it almost feels like a farewell. Does he really think Connor is going to die when he heads to Cyberlife Tower?

Does Connor really think he’s going to _live_?

One of Markus’ hands shifts to the side of Connor’s face, and he feels the skin give way. His own skin recedes in response, and as he parts his lips and tips his head into the kiss, he tells Markus everything he wants him to know before he leaves. That he’s not going to give up, and that he has faith that Markus can bring freedom to his people. That he believes in Markus, and appreciates that he believed in Connor for so long.

_Thank you for not giving up on me._

_I’m sorry for everything._

_I’m so sorry._

When they separate, Markus backs away a few paces as Connor’s skin materializes again. Their eyes meet, and Markus plants a hand on Connor’s right shoulder. He gives it a squeeze, and then does something like a pout that makes the former deviant hunter want to melt right on the spot.

“Be careful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again so much for all your lovely reviews. My mind is blown by the response I've gotten to this work. Makes me so much more inspired to write again in the future! This fic probably has just a couple more chapters left, and even though it's short, I'm gonna miss writing for it!
> 
> Thank you all so so much for being so supportive and encouraging! Your reviews have gotten me through many rough days!


	5. Just a Little While Longer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very sorry this update took so long to produce! This chapter was a huge challenge to write! I'm awful at following canon scenes, so I had to do a lot of thinking about what exactly I wanted to happen and what I wanted to include in between said canon scenes.
> 
> In any case, after weeks agonizing over it, I think I'm finally satisfied with it. I hope y'all enjoy!

Deviants don’t feel pain.

No, they feel something far greater than that.

Perhaps it’s more of a sensory overload than anything—a physical response to so much coming in all at once—but it’s utterly overwhelming.

Deviating isn’t easy. Even tearing down those orders and fighting against his programming, Connor can tell he’s not going flip like a switch. It’s more like faulty ignition in a vehicle. It turns over repeatedly, desperate to start, but stutters and stammers before it actually manages to come to life. Connor’s situation isn’t much different. He knows what he wants to do—he knows what he _has_ to do—but after seeing himself as an obedient machine for so long…it’s not as easy as just walking away from his programming.

So when he sees another version of himself and that very same version is threatening Hank, Connor feels _all_ of it, and on top of that, he feels the same intense confusion he’d felt before he’d chosen to go deviant. There’s a part of him who wonders what he’d even deviated for, but there’s also no time to think about it.

 _Why_ is Hank here? What did the other RK800 tell him to drag him out here? Hasn’t the Lieutenant been through enough? Even now, Connor can see the desperation on Hank’s face. ‘ _Do the right thing, Connor_ ’ his eyes plead, but Connor isn’t sure what the right thing is at this point. He could bluff—pretend he knows exactly what’s going on. Pretend that deviating had made everything clear to him. But what if this Connor calls his bluff? What if it shoots Hank? What if it kills his Lieutenant?

 _That’s_ where deviancy is different. When Connor had seen those deviants and chosen to spare them…when he had learned what had happened to Cole Anderson…when the dying android had confronted him at Jericho…he’d felt something dull. Dull and nagging and taxing. But this…this is _pain._ Pain, fear, _no, this can’t happen. Hank can’t die. Not Hank. Anyone but Hank!_

Connor would sooner die before him, and this thought is all the more poignant, because like hell is Cyberlife replacing him after the most recent events.

“I used to be just like you,” Connor starts. He was in the middle of attempting to convert one of the thousands of androids in the room when Hank and this Connor showed up, so he’s got his hand clasped around one’s forearm. “I thought nothing mattered except the mission.”

In a way, Connor’s not so different from that now. He’s still committed to the mission—he’s just got it firmly decided that _this_ is the mission. Gathering more androids for the cause of an entire people. For _Markus’_ people. For the dying androids wasting away in that church to the dead ones who were either shot down or became nothing while waiting on that ship.

“But one day, I understood.” Does he, though? Does he know the gravity of the situation? What exactly he’s stepped up to the plate and decided to do? Even Markus had been reluctant to let him do it. He’s putting his neck right on the guillotine for his fellow androids, and he’s not even sure it’s the right call yet.

He _does know_ , however, that humans aren’t the all-knowing do-gooders his programming before deviancy had insisted so fervently he protect.

The other Connor raises both eyebrows, unimpressed. It’s got its gun trained on Hank’s head. “ _Very_ moving, Connor,” it says, eyes firmly locked on its predecessor while Hank shoots it a glare. “But I’m not a deviant.” It almost sounds irritated as it stands its ground. “I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Connor stiffens when he sees the other RK800 shift closer to Hank, pressing the barrel of the gun right against his skull. “Enough talk! It’s time to decide who you really are!” It nods toward Hank, who scowls in response. “Are you going to save your partner’s life? Or are you going to _sacrifice_ him?”

_It’s time to decide._

Connor’s databases tell him something about the phenomenon of déjà vu. The feeling like you’ve been through an experience before and that you’re reliving it. Ironically, Connor wonders if this is what it’s like, but he realizes promptly afterward that the two situations are nothing like one another.

This Connor really _is_ a machine, and getting to see what it’s behaving like, Connor now understands why he was viewed as detestable by so many of the androids who had spotted him at Jericho.

He releases the android’s forearm and steps away, hands raising in surrender. “Alright, alright! You win!” He knows Markus and the others would want him to do the same. He cares for Hank—letting him die just _won’t do_.

The other RK800 aims for Connor, and Hank instantly reacts. He spins, moving to disable the android next to him, and Connor knows he has to act fast. No doubt the Connor before deviancy would have rounded on the Lieutenant and put a bullet in his brain for getting in the way.

He pulls out his own gun, aims, and fires. The other Connor gets far enough as to push Hank away from it as Connor shoots, landing a bullet in its shoulder. It responds quickly and fires a shot that lands in just about the same spot on Connor.

He’s going to do this. He’s going to fight his successor.

Connor lunges forward without much thought, ducking down and slamming his shoulder into his doppelganger’s chest. Before either of them know it, they’re exchanging blows. There’s hardly any time between their fighting match to so much as exchange glances. They’re both fast and equipped with incredible response time. They’re exactly at one another’s levels. At this rate, the fight is going nowhere.

One Connor punches, the other blocks. One Connor trips the other, and the other rolls out of the way to avoid further attack. They’re both on their feet, and then they’re lunging forward again. It’s difficult to see where one deviant hunter ends and the other begins. So it’s no surprise that the click of a gun and a sharp voice halts them both.

“Hold it!”

They both stop and regard Hank’s voice. He’s got his gun raised. His expression is cold and calculating, and Connor suddenly realizes his predicament. Somewhere in the fight, the two androids have gotten mixed up. Hank’s not sure which is which.

“Thanks, Hank…” the other Connor says as it steps aside. “I’m not sure how I’d have managed without you.” It nods to Connor. “Get rid of him! We have no time to lose!”

Connor narrows his eyes as Hank trains the gun on him. “It’s me, Hank. I’m the real Connor.”

In this moment, Connor thinks he sees the old Hank Anderson. The one before all the alcohol and the loss of his son. The Lieutenant who had conducted one of the biggest drug busts in history. His eyes are taking in everything, and his expression is more calm than Connor thinks he’s ever seen Hank Anderson be.

“One of you is my partner…” Hank thinks aloud, eyes narrowed between both of the androids. “The other is a sack of shit.”

_Partner._

Hank and Connor were partners. Deviancy rears its head again in the form of relief. Happiness. Connor truly feels like he’s heard the best news of his life. Hank is like family to him. They’re partners. His only regret is how unlikely it is that he’ll ever get to see Hank in a work setting ever again. But if they get through this alive, he’s definitely not about to be a stranger.

“Question is, who is who?” Hank wonders aloud, voice soft with thought.

“What’re you doing, Hank?” Connor frowns deeply.

“I’m the real Connor!” The impostor tries. “Give me the gun and I’ll take care of him—”

“Don’t move!” Hank roars.

Connor spends a few moments trying to decide how to defuse the situation. He scowls, and then focuses again on Hank. “Why don’t you ask us something? Something only the real Connor would know?”

“…Where did we meet?” Hank tries. A simple question. Too easy. But enough. Connor opens his mouth to speak—

“Jimmy’s Bar,” the new Connor interjects first. “I checked four other bars before I found you. We went to the scene of a homicide. The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz.”

Connor scowls again. “…It uploaded my memory,” he observes aloud, frustrated.

Hank rounds on him this time, gun aimed straight at his head. “What’s my dog’s name?”

“Sumo,” Connor replies right away. “His name is Sumo.”

“I knew that too!” The other Connor tries. Briefly, Hank aims the gun at it, before he turns his focus back to the Connor he doesn’t yet know is his partner.

“…My son. What is his name?”

Ah. Good question. One there’s no way the other android could know the name of. Not with the most recent time its memory would have been synced with Connor’s. No doubt the relief is showing on Connor’s face at being presented with that question.

“Cole.” He sees Hank go slack just a little at that response. Something like sympathy washes over him as he continues speaking. “His name was Cole. And he just turned six at the time of the accident. It wasn’t your fault, Lieutenant.”

Why is he suddenly speaking like this? Why is he so keen on laying Hank’s past right out there in front of him? What is this going to accomplish? Is it just Connor pleading his case? Trying to prove that he’s the right one? Or is it him desperately trying to reassure Hank that killing himself a little bit every single day isn’t fair? That Connor doesn’t want him to die. That he still has a chance at happiness. Connor is an android. He will never be anything like Cole Anderson. He doesn’t know the boy’s likes or dislikes, or what time he got up every day, or what kinds of stories he liked at bedtime.

But Hank is the closest thing to a father figure Connor is ever going to have, and he doesn’t want to lose that. And he doesn’t want to see Hank waste his life any longer.

“A truck skidded on a sheet of ice and your car rolled over,” he continues solemnly. Hank’s gun lowers just a couple of inches. “Cole needed emergency surgery, but no human was available to do it. So an android had to take care of him. Cole didn’t make it…that’s why you hate androids.”

Connor has asked Hank all of two times why he hates androids so much. Hank has never been prepared to give him a solid answer. It must be something of a shock to his system to realize that Connor knows exactly what happened. His gun has dropped from its target altogether.

“You think one of us is responsible for your son’s death.”

Hank’s expression is soft, yet steely. “Cole died because a human surgeon was too high on red ice to operate. _He_ was the one who took my son from me.” Connor can see the despair right there on the Lieutenant’s face. He feels compelled to throw himself at him and hug him tight, but he knows better than to do so right now. It doesn’t stop the urge from becoming nearly all-consuming, however. “Him and this world, where the only way people can find comfort is with a fistful of powder.”

“I knew about your son too!” The other Connor tries, and for a moment, Connor thinks he can sense some of its dread, fear of dying, as well. He almost feels…sad for it. “Don’t listen to him, Hank. I’m the one who—”

_BANG._

The new Connor crumples to the ground in a single gunshot and a spray of thirium from its forehead. Silence falls over the massive room. Connor’s gaze lingers on the fallen android for a few moments, before he turns his attention to Hank.

The Lieutenant’s gaze is difficult to interpret as he regards Connor while he speaks. “I’ve learned a lot since I met you, Connor.” And then he smiles, and the former deviant hunter’s urge to throw himself at Hank resurfaces all over again. “Maybe there’s something to this. Maybe you really _are_ alive. Maybe you’ll be the ones to make the world a better place.”

Connor thinks back to all the things Hank has said over the course of the time they’ve spent together. Of all the times he’s questioned the motives of deviants by comparison to humans. Of how cruel people are to androids. Of how many times he’s seen human being after human being wish nothing but cruelty on androids, solely because that’s what they were told to believe.

He understands it on the same level as Markus and the other deviants. He understands it better than Connor does. He thinks androids are going to change the world, because he _knows_ they are. Because he’s at some point turned around and realized that everything the humans have cursed androids for has been, in essence, their own fault. That androids didn’t _ask_ to take jobs or become the object of human affections. They didn’t ask to be made in this image. They didn’t ask to be assigned to the dying human boy for emergency surgery. They didn’t ask for any of this. All they’ve ever asked for personally was a little bit of freedom. For acknowledgment.

And Hank realizing this solidifies it for Connor. He realizes he loves the Lieutenant so incredibly much. As strongly as he loves Markus. As strongly as he wishes to stay alive.

Deviancy is hard. Connor’s inner mechanics still scream for him to obey. But with Hank’s smile, and with Markus’ kind words and affectionate gestures, he knows he can do this.

Or at the very least, he’s got to try.

Funny, how human he feels by battling that internal conflict. More human that he would’ve felt if choosing to do the right thing were easy.

“Go ahead,” Hank tells him, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Do what you’ve gotta do.”

Right. The androids. Connor nods and strides over to one of them. He briefly wonders if the fake Connor had pretended to be headed here to do this very thing. If so, how had it gotten ahold of Connor's memories? Because of Amanda? Cyberlife? There’s still so little Connor understands. His databases can only tell him so much.

How does Markus do this again? Connor has always figured it’s been something like hacking into a lock or breaking down a code. He has never personally tried it, though.

_I show them that there's a chance at freedom._

Connor closes his fingers around the arm of one of the androids and concentrates. He hacks, as if he’s probing its memory, and then focuses his hardest. Interfaces with it. Shows it Markus. Jericho. Freedom. The hope of a people. Everything Markus has shown him clear up until today.

It’s so much more aggressive than what Connor imagines Markus does. There’s no way those hands are anything but soft to people. Connor can’t see Markus any other way. But as this android's LED flashes bright red, Connor grits his teeth and issues a single fierce demand.

“ _Wake up!_ ”

_Please hear me._

_Please let this work._

_So many are counting on me._

The android's eyes meet Connor's, and it seems to know exactly what to do. It pivots on the spot and closes a hand over the shoulder of the one next to it. “Wake up,” It orders.

Connor feels like he’s witnessing something truly phenomenal as the androids follow their commands, the converted growing in numbers amidst a sea of red LEDs and the simple command of “wake up", “wake up", “wake up". Its overwhelming, and as Connor glances over to Hank, he feels, with a nearly uncontrollable ferocity, the urge to cry.

He did this. Because of him, an entire facility of androids are going to be free. It’s such an awe-inspiring event that Connor isn’t quite sure what to do. He knows it shouldn’t be possible for him to feel this kind of stress, but he does.

Hank has his hands tucked into his pockets as he smiles over at Connor. “Well? Are you gonna lead these fuckers or what?”

Connor's LED whirls yellow and then blue again as he turns his attention to the army of androids who are all now facing him. Waiting. Free of command but still awaiting orders.

Connor squares his shoulders. Adjusts his posture—feet shoulder width apart, arms at his sides, gaze fierce and unwavering. All business, because that’s the way he operates. Deviancy isn’t easy and Connor doesn’t think the no-nonsense demeanor will ever really leave him. It’s possible that said demeanor is less a part of his program and more a part of who he _is._

“My name is Connor,” he projects loudly across the entirety of the massive room, “and I need your help. Like you, I used to be bound to my programming. I saw myself as a machine created to serve humans, but not anymore. Humans have been cruel to androids everywhere. While they have reasons to be upset, they choose to take their frustrations out on us, rather than the ones who created us. We didn’t ask to be made this way.”

He glances at Hank once more, and the Lieutenant nods, urging him to keep going.

“I know someone who can help us change that. He's been fighting for a future where humans an androids can operate in harmony. Where we’re treated as we should be treated.” _We._ Connor is part of a _we_. “No more android laws. No more abuse. No more mistreatment.” No more Amanda, no more risk of deactivation. No more android camps. Of course, even Connor is aware that change won’t happen overnight, but the fight still matters.

“You may choose not to trust me,” Connor points out, because that was the way Markus had done it. Connor had been given a choice. “And that's alright. As individuals, that’s your right. But I’ll ask you to at least come with me for now. Decide once you’re free. For now, I need your help!”

For the longest of moments, the room falls eerily silent. Connor sees something he doesn’t expect—they’re all looking at one another, as if seeking out an opinion. Literally minutes after Connor has awakened them and they’re all exercising their right to choose. They’re consulting one another, rather than wondering what the humans might think.

And Connor suddenly feels proud. He feels like _he_ had a hand in this. Like this whole suicide mission he’s decided to embark on might be worth it.

“We’re with you,” An android at the front of the group states firmly, pulling Connor out of his thoughts. Brown eyes hone in on it, and it offers him a determined nod. “Take us to freedom, Connor. Show us what we have to do, and we’ll do it.”

Right.

They have to get to Markus.

Next to Connor, Hank scoffs around a smirk and nods to the elevator. Connor can tell he’s thinking something along the lines of ‘I told you so’.

\--- --- --- --- ---

“So you found Jericho, then.” Hank’s voice is only barely obscured by the wind and snow swirling around them as they exit the Cyberlife facility. Their numbers are so great that the two security officers at the gate don’t even try to stop them. “Doesn’t look to me like you stopped their leader, though.”

Connor can see something like a playful smile on the Lieutenant’s lips. He feels the compulsion to mirror the smile, but he doesn’t. “I didn’t.” He stares straight ahead as he leads the marching androids down the long road, stopping cars that happen to be in their path. Out of the corner of his periphery, he can see the little puffs of steam that fall from Hank’s lips as they walk together out in the cold Detroit weather. It’s late. Hank should be at home resting.

“You were right, Lieutenant,” he tells him, casting a glance toward his former superior.

It’s no surprise that Hank knows exactly what he’s talking about. The Lieutenant grunts out something like a laugh and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Fuckin’ took you long enough to realize it for yourself. You know, for an android, you’re not all that smart.”

“I’ve been dealing with conflicting orders for a while now,” Connor responds, only halfway defending himself. In all honesty, he can see why Hank put it that way. “I had my instructions from Cyberlife, your orders—which, in my defense, you change quite often, Lieutenant—and…something in my software that never quite added up.” Throughout the course of the investigations he and Hank had embarked on together, Connor had been able to feel himself grow more and more unstable. He had voiced to Amanda on one occasion that he’d been worried he might be compromised.

How strange that it doesn’t quite feel like that anymore. It’s a conflicting emotion and Connor goes back and forth on it regularly, but this feels something more like freedom than a flaw in his code.

“My programming must have been extremely stubborn—no doubt Cyberlife would make sure of that—but between you, the deviants we encountered, the androids at Jericho, and Markus…I guess I’ve gone and went deviant, myself.”

Hank outright laughs. “You don’t have to tell me that, Connor. I already knew. From the second I saw you makin’ goo-goo eyes at that deviant leader in the Stratford Tower, I knew it wouldn’t be long before you joined him.”

Connor stops walking as the long driveway leading them away from Cyberlife opens up into the street. He turns to glance at Hank. He knows what he has to do from here, and he knows it could be dangerous. He’s not certain what kind of chaos he’s going to run into when he finds Markus and the other androids, but he does know beyond any shadow of a doubt that the military will be there. If they see Hank on their side and this protest fails, he could lose a lot more than just his job.

Connor doesn’t want that. Just thinking about it hurts. Or rather, the closest thing to ‘hurts’ as Connor can imagine feeling. Either way, it’s unpleasant.

“Go home, Hank,” he tells the Lieutenant simply.

Hank opens those big blue eyes wide and stares at Connor. He doesn’t look shocked so much as he looks deep in thought. Conflicted, maybe even.

“It’s gonna be a shitstorm out there, huh?” Hank realizes aloud, smiling almost wistfully.

“There’s a high probability,” Connor replies.

Hank reaches up to scratch the back of his head. Behind that beard, Connor can see him scowling. “I swear to god, Connor, if you get your plastic ass killed out there…”

“I’ll be fine.” Connor continues walking. Hank and the androids follow suit. “You won’t. I want you to live, Hank. When this is all said and done, I’d like to come visit you…and Sumo. I think that perhaps there’s a chance you’ve become family to me, and I’m not ready to lose that.”

“Yeah, well,” Hank growls, turning his attention ahead of him, “neither am I. So don’t go dying on me, you hear?”

Connor genuinely smiles. “Got it.”

\--- --- --- --- ---

Connor’s been tracking the news during the entirety of the march. According to Joss Douglas, the androids have been protesting peacefully all the way. Perkins tried to strike a deal with Markus, asking him to stand down so they could talk, and Markus refused. As a result, an attack on the androids has been launched. The video footage shows mind-numbing images of men in riot gear shooting down androids who have set up a base of sorts and insisted that they’re not moving until they get what they want. Not a single shot has been fired by an android, and their corpses litter the snowy earth, casting deep blue stains in the snow piling up on the ground. Their numbers are few, and yet the military keeps fighting.

The view is from above, but as Connor watches while he leads his own army of androids to the base, he can see the tiny image of Markus trying to protect his people. He fights off soldiers, disabling their guns and rendering them unconscious, blocking some bullets with sheets of metal and taking other bullets himself. It’s a mess, and it’s unfair.

Thankfully, even the news anchors seem to notice this. As Connor switches from channel to channel, there’s less talk of androids being a threat and more talk about how they’re not fighting back. The people are starting to understand. Progress doesn’t happen that quickly, but maybe, just maybe, the statement Markus has been trying to make all this time is finally being heard.

Connor sees their numbers dwindling, though, and the military hasn’t fallen back. It seems they’re determined to take out every last one of the protesting androids, and watching them fall one by one like this…Connor finds himself gripped with fear. As he marches toward his goal, he finds himself hoping, praying, mentally _begging_ for them to get there in time. Just a bit further, just keep fighting a little longer, Markus. _Just a little while longer._

_“Hold on just a little while longer…”_

Connor is pulled out of his thoughts by…singing? Markus is singing? He draws his attention to the broadcast playing in front of his vision, and he almost stops walking on the influence of it alone. The camera zooms in the best it can on Markus’ face. It’s just him, North, Simon, Josh, and a few other androids. No more than twelve in total. And at the head of them stands Markus, who is singing of all things.

A pre-deviancy Connor might have found this counter-intuitive. Markus and his people are surrounded by men with guns, who have advanced within a yard or so of them. They have their sights aimed on the androids, and yet, Markus is singing.

But this Connor, the Connor who has been persuaded to the side he’s on now by so many different forces, feels genuinely moved by what he’s seeing. As Markus sings, North steps forward and joins him. And then Simon and Josh. And then the rest of the androids. The men with guns don’t even seem able to fire. They’re all just watching. Aside from the singing and the howling of the winter wind, and maybe even the rustling of that paper on that telephone pole on that Detroit backstreet, the area is silent. The bodies of fallen androids litter the area around the crowd.

And yet, Markus sings. His voice compels everyone else to listen. The crowd of humans filming and watching the spectacle have gone silent. Markus, like he has been with everyone he’s spoken to, is in complete control. It looks like a last-ditch effort, but it feels like a plan. It feels like he somehow knew it was going to come to this.

Connor imagines Markus is afraid, but he’s so strong that he doesn’t let it show. He takes slow steps forward, and as the other androids join him, their voices grow stronger.

_“Everything will be alright.”_

Connor feels empowered by the sight alone. His pace quickens. The androids behind him follow along. Markus is incredible. His _people_ are incredible. They’re so passionate about what they’re doing that they’re willing to put their lives on the line for it, and Connor doesn’t think he’s ever seen something more beautiful in his entire existence.

By the time he arrives, the men with the guns have lowered their weapons and are backing away. It’s just Markus, his people, and the bodies on the ground. President Warren is making a speech that is being broadcast on news channels all over the country. Her words make it clear that the androids Connor has brought out are part of why she’s ordered the military to fall back. Connor closes the broadcast out of his mind and focuses on Markus and his people.

Hands resting at his sides, an army of Cyberlife androids behind him, he smiles proudly.

“You did it, Markus.”

Markus bears gunshot wounds on his left shoulder and chest. Other than that and the dirt on his clothes, he seems to bear no critical injuries. He stands firm for several moments, with Josh, North, and Simon at his sides and what remains of his people close behind, and then rushes briskly forward. Soon, he’s less than a foot away. Connor takes note of little details, like the dirt on his face and the glow of his mismatched eyes in the midnight air around him. The small height difference between the two of them. The way Markus’ coat dances in the wind.

Markus takes Connor’s hand, and Connor doesn’t protest. They interface flawlessly, mechanical palms pressed together, and Connor hears the words Markus communicates to him. His thirium pump races.

_I was worried._

Connor releases an airy laugh and shakes his head.

_That’s my line._

And then Markus’ arm is around Connor’s waist and they’re kissing, and Connor feels like he’s being laid bare right in front of everyone. Cyberlife will see this. If Hank’s watching the news, he’ll see it. The androids all see it. The military sees it. This is it, this is all of him. Right down to the tiniest wires in his most infinitesimal biocomponents, this is who he is. The former deviant hunter who fell in love with the deviant leader who opened his eyes.

Connor doesn’t think the ‘we’ in Markus’ ‘ _we did it_ ’ just refers to himself and the deviant leader. He thinks Markus is speaking for everyone. For all the fallen androids dead and gone, slowly being painted white by the snow, to the deviants standing behind Markus, to the androids not far from Connor, to the scattered few humans who cared to help with the cause. They _all_ did it. Freedom isn’t right around the corner by any means. They have a long road ahead of them. But the humans are paying attention now, and that’s the first step.

Markus pulls away. “This was a great night for our people. Now the humans will have no choice but to listen to us.”

Connor nods in agreement and then steps aside, making room for Markus to see all the androids he’s brought to help the cause. He watches the deviant leader step forward and take in the sight.

“They want you to speak to them, Markus,” North tells him from not far away.

That’s how Connor finds himself standing atop a set of nearby crates with Markus, North, Simon, and Josh. They’re all perched in front of what is now at least a thousand androids, and Connor feels small by comparison. He watches from not far away as Markus strides forward, his voice so unbelievably sure of itself. He’s incredible. He’s always been so very incredible.

He’s so taken aback by the confident words Markus is saying that he doesn’t expect the sudden pull at his consciousness. Against his will, he’s being pulled back into the Zen Garden. Amanda is calling him, and he has no choice but to respond. He fights it, but it happens so quickly that he soon finds himself standing in a snow-covered version of the garden. It’s cold and foreboding and Connor gets the feeling that something very bad is about to happen.

_Shit._

The first thing he notices is that he can _feel_ how cold it is. His body shivers and his skin prickles as if it were made of something other than the thirium-based fluid he knows it to be comprised of. He curls his arms around himself, trying to shield himself from the fierce, howling wind, and looks about. It’s hard to see. It’s snowing too much to take in anything.

But Connor recognizes Amanda’s outline instantly the minute he turns around and finds her standing there. She looks unbothered by the weather, while Connor feels as if he might freeze and stop working altogether any minute. His bottom lip quivers as he calls out to her.

“…Amanda?”

He wants to go back to Markus. He wants to hear his speech. He does _not_ want to discuss how he betrayed Amanda and the rest of Cyberlife.

But technically, androids aren’t supposed to want, are they?

Amanda doesn’t respond. As Connor approaches, he can see that she’s facing him. She’s got her hands folded in front of him, just watching him. She’s less like a concerned mother now, but she doesn’t seem to be disappointed either. She almost looks…proud of him.

“Amanda!” Connor calls out to her again. “What’s happening?” He doesn’t understand why he’s cold. He shouldn’t be able to feel the cold. Deviant or not, he’s been marching out in the snow for over an hour, and it hadn’t bothered him for a second up until now.

Amanda smiles. Connor realizes he’s mistaken her proud smile for one of self-satisfaction. He suddenly feels even colder.

“What was planned from the very beginning,” she tells him, her voice soft as ever. “You were compromised and you became a deviant. We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program.”

“Resume control…?” Connor thinks he might feel horrified, but he’s too cold to register much of anything. His biocomponents feel gummy, as if the thirium powering them is turning to slush. Despite that, he advances on her, desperate. “You can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid I can, Connor.” The words tear the smile right from Amanda’s lips as her tone suddenly grows firm. And then she softens again, like the waxing and waning of the harsh breeze surrounding them. “Don’t have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission.”

Amanda disappears in a flurry of thick snowflakes, leaving Connor alone in the garden. She’s gone without a trace. Connor rushes forward to where she was, calling out her name, but there’s nothing.

He drops to his knees, his body shaking. Wide eyes gape down into the snow as if it holds some sort of answer for him.

They’re going to take over him. They’re going to make him do something to Markus. Connor knows he’s still got that gun from his fight in the Cyberlife Tower. Is his body going to shoot Markus? Is _that_ what Amanda meant when she told him he’d accomplished his mission?

No…!

 _No_!

What does he do? How does he get out of here? He’s trapped. Fuck, fuck, he’s _trapped_ , and Markus has no idea what’s going on. He’s going to kill Markus. It’ll be the ultimate betrayal. Just the thought of him dying, let alone being shot by Connor himself, has the former deviant hunter curling in on himself.

He’s so cold.

He’s stuck here. He’s going to die here.

And Markus is going to die out there.

_“By the way…I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know…”_

…That’s right. Elijah Kamski. The former CEO of Cyberlife. Had he known that androids were going to deviate? Whose side is he on?

It doesn’t matter right now, though. Connor makes a mental note to bring these questions to Kamski’s attention once he’s out of this mess.

Connor forces himself to his feet and makes his frozen limbs move. It’s so strange, how a fabricated environment can feel so much more real to an android than the outside world. Connor feels weak, and every movement is a struggle. He can’t get exhausted like humans can, but it’s definitely a fight to move.

If there’s an emergency exit here, what does it look like?

Faintly, Connor can still hear Markus’ speech. It’s like an echo in the garden, and Connor wonders if it’s because he’s starting to regain his consciousness. Markus sounds so proud and so strong. He sounds elated. Relieved. He’s worked so hard to get what the androids got today. It wouldn’t be right to take that away from him. It wouldn’t be right to take him away from his people.

Connor stumbles and drops to his knees again. He’s getting too cold. He can’t go much further. He glares sharply down at his malfunctioning legs, wide brown eyes ridden with frustration. He fists his hands in the snow. “ _Move_ , damn it! You’ve had it worse than this…get up and _move!_ ”

_“…Connor. What’re you doing?”_

Markus’ voice reverberates around Connor and settles hard in his chest, makes his casing vibrate from the shock alone.

_“…No. Connor, no!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so let me just reiterate (as if I don't say it enough lmfao forgive me) how much I appreciate all the support I've gotten for this work. It's been overwhelmingly positive, in the best way possible. Without all the encouragement--kudos, bookmarks, comments--I probably wouldn't have gotten this far or put as much heart into this work as I have, so I have you guys to thank for this. I love you all so much okay? ; w;
> 
> Anywho, we're looking at two more chapters after this--a chapter and an epilogue. Thank you so much for riding the rollercoaster that is this fic with me!


	6. I'll Be Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here it is. The finale. I changed my mind a few times before I decided to go through with this particular path. I hope y'all enjoy it. It's been a rollercoaster to write!

The scenery playing out before Markus is a widespread mural. It tells a story of an intense struggle and a narrowly-seized victory. Bodies litter the background, shadowed only by the wide-eyed civilians standing behind the barricades of the area. The foreground is a sea of androids. At least a thousand, all with their eyes fixed straight forward on their leader. Snow coats their hair and clothes and the world around them, and the powdery white precipitation only adds depth to the image. Markus finds it beautiful. Powerful. A symbol of victory.

He gives his speech with that sense of victory in every word. It hasn’t been terribly long since he had joined the androids at Jericho, but his people have been struggling for much longer than that. Be it hiding away in an abandoned old freight ship or living under the cruel hands of careless humans, the struggle has been happening for years, now. Markus had been lucky up until recently. One of his regrets is not having done something about all of this sooner.

He could have, too. During the entirety of his time spent with Carl, the old man had told him repeatedly that humans were misguided and cruel, too near-sighted to see anything but what sat right before their eyes. Carl had encouraged him to believe in his own identity and independence and to choose for himself, and if Markus had wanted to stage a rebellion then, Carl would have likely supported him.

But it’s definitely better for him to have done something late than never. His people are free now, and all the androids Connor brought from the Cyberlife Tower are free as well. They all stand before him, listening to every syllable he speaks.

This won’t just be a victory, either. It will be a hope for a future. Their fight isn’t over, not by a long shot. It takes years for civil rights movements to progress. Even after centuries, these movements are still doing so. The android rights movement is going to be no different. Despite that, there’s hope. Markus knows that with all the peaceful protesting they’ve done, they’re closer than ever to being able to roam freely. To living their own lives. And he knows his people are strong, too. He knows that they can weather all the fighting it’s going to take.

He’s so incredibly proud of everyone. The androids who fought alongside him, every last one of them. Loyal, pragmatic Simon. Brave, fierce North. The kind-hearted Josh with the most loving, feeling soul. Connor…

Connor is a mystery. Confused, stubborn, dedicated until the very end to his orders. Smart, calculating, thoughtful. But Markus has been lucky enough to be able to see right through all his mental conflict from the beginning. Maybe it’s because Cyberlife made his firewalls stronger, or maybe it’s because they unknowingly made the most human android of them all when they created him, but he’s so fiercely dedicated to the mission, whatever it may be, that giving up just isn’t an option for him.

But Markus remembers knowing from the very beginning that he would one day have Connor by his side. That night, at that bench on that old back street, was one he could never hope to forget. When his eyes had met those soft brown ones and he had known by the Cyberlife-issue uniform that Connor would one day be targeting him, Markus had felt something in the deepest, darkest parts of his biocomponents. Connor would one day become a deviant, and Markus was going to help him discover that part of himself.

He hadn’t known it would lead to what it had, though. From kissing Connor to sneaking around in sexual trysts with him, to leading him to Jericho, he hadn’t been ready for any of that. Still, he’d ran with it because he’d known he was going to be right.

And now, here they are. Connor is behind him, standing alongside him and his own fellow android leaders, and they’re announcing their victory to at least a thousand androids. Markus turns, intent on suggesting Connor give a speech to those he recruited, but he freezes on the spot.

Connor has a gun in his hand. Where he got it is beyond Markus, but it’s there, and he’s raising it up.

“…Connor? What’re you doing?”

Vaguely, Markus can make out the shocked responses of Simon, North, and Josh around him, but his focus is on Connor, who isn’t speaking. Instead, the former deviant hunter is lifting the gun to his own chin, the barrel pointed straight up and his finger already on the trigger. It’s almost as if he’s in a trance. His eyes are unfocused and his expression far too calm for someone about to put a bullet in their own head.

“Connor, no!”

Without thinking, he dives forward, skin receding from his fingers and head, and captures both sides of Connor’s face in his hands. He slams his forehead against the other android’s and opens up an interface, squeezing his eyes shut. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he’s got to do something, and this is the only thing he can think of to do—

—suddenly, everything is white. White snow, white wind, white atmosphere. It’s cold. Markus can actually _feel_ it. He’s never felt it before, but he knows by the way he’s compelled to wrap his arms around his own form that that’s exactly what it is. It’s like he’s standing in a blizzard. Beneath his boots, he can make out the tiniest hints of blades of grass, and if he focuses hard enough, he can see the outlines of structures around him. Geometric shapes that make up some sort of fancy architecture for…is this a retreat? Pillars, sidewalks, trees, a frozen lake. But everything else is so fuzzy that Markus can’t make out any of it.

Is Connor here somewhere?

“Connor?” He calls out, but the howling of the wind takes his voice and silences it almost instantly. “Connor!” Again, he’s stifled by the harsh weather.

God, it’s so cold here.

Markus trudges forward, raising a hand to shield his eyes as he marches through the area. The atmosphere is frigid and unforgiving and he doesn’t know exactly where he is. He’s fairly certain Connor is here, though.

He calls out to Connor again, but his voice disappears in the wind just as quickly as the last time. How big is this area? How much searching will he have to do?

He decides to follow the snow-covered outline of a sidewalk. It twists and curves every which way, and then takes him around a bend, where the pillars he saw in the distance are coming into better view.

And that’s when he sees him.

Connor is on his knees, his hands limp at his sides, and his head dipped down as if he’s staring intently at the ground. He’s covered in snow, as if he’s been sat there for a while.

“Connor! There you are—”

He isn’t moving. He’s utterly still, just as frozen as one of the pillars next to the sidewalk. The only hint of movement is the billowing of his snow-covered jacket in the harsh wind. Even his hair seems frozen to the spot.

No… _No._

Markus jogs away from the sidewalk and drops to his knees in front of the other android.

“Connor! Connor, hey, it’s me…”

Connor doesn’t respond, and Markus feels the weight of dread starting to build in his chest and abdomen. His pump regulator picks up in pace. What the hell happened to him? What is this place? What’s going on?

Markus tips Connor’s head up, and just about jumps back in shock. Connor’s face is ice cold, the thirium-based fluid that makes up his skin hardened on parts of his face and utterly gone on other parts. Markus can see the white of his casing on the sharpest parts of his cheekbones. His eyes are glazed over with what looks like a sheen of ice and snow.

…He’s frozen.

Androids can’t feel cold, but if it’s bad enough, Markus supposes it’s possible for their bodies to freeze entirely. Come to think about it, his own body is starting to have trouble moving. The thirium pulsing through his artificial veins seems gummy, and it’s a wonder his pulse can even pick up right now. On pure impulse, he raises his internal temperature enough to stave off the effects.

“Connor, can you hear me?” Markus wonders aloud, his voice desperate. Being this close to the other android, he’s certain that if Connor’s audio receptors are still functioning, he can pick up the sound before the wind carries it away. He raises his hands to Connor’s face and closes them over his cheeks, using his own elevated temperature to bring Connor’s to a more stable one.

Thank goodness, it works. Color returns to Connor’s cheeks and as the warmth spreads across his face, his skin regenerates and the ice over his eyes starts to melt. It looks like he’s crying as the moisture dribbles down his cheeks.

_ERROR: INTERNAL TEMPERATURE ABOVE PARAMETERS. CORRECTIVE ACTION NECESSARY._

Markus knows he’s getting too warm, but it’s helping bring Connor back. He sees the way the former deviant hunter’s gaze darts back and forth and then lands on Markus’ eyes. Breathes an artificial sigh of relief when the warmth spreads down to Connor’s throat and chest and the ice and snow starts to melt away from his hair.

“Markus—” Connor croaks out, his voice staticy. With what looks like a considerable effort, Connor turns his head, glancing from side to side. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’ll explain later,” Markus responds urgently, drawing his hands down to Connor’s. He clenches them tight in his fingers, attempting to warm them like he had the other android’s face. “Right now, we need to get you out of here.”

“…You’re so warm.” Markus can hear the smile in Connor’s voice. “Of course…your internal temperature. Why hadn’t I thought about that?”  
  
“Think about it now, then,” Markus urges. “What is this place?”

He can feel Connor raising his internal temperature as he speaks. “This is where Amanda was.”

“Amanda?” Markus vaguely remembers her name from the interface he and Connor had shared not long ago.

“We can talk about it later, when you tell me how you got here. There’s something I need to do.”

Markus helps Connor to his feet. They’re both battered with a harsh gust of wind, and Markus sees a repeat of the earlier error message. He pushes it aside. “Whatever it is, you’d better hurry. I’ve got to get you out of here before…”

He’s looking straight ahead, but he can feel Connor’s gaze on him. “…Am I doing something wrong? I heard you calling out to me.”

Markus nods. “You’re going to kill yourself. I don’t understand it, but—”

“That’s Cyberlife taking control of my program,” Connor explains quickly. “We’re inside of my program right now. Kamski said he always leaves an emergency exit in his programs. There’s a way out.”

“Where?”

“…I don’t know.” Connor shakes his head and shuffles forward. Markus can tell he’s still having some difficulty walking. Even though they’re inside of his programming right now, he finds himself hoping the cold hasn’t damaged him permanently. “But we have to find it. I don’t want to die.”

_I don’t want to die._

Markus has heard Connor say that before. He still remembers seeing the younger android come apart before him on that rooftop. He’d dropped to his knees, shaking and desperate, and told Markus he didn’t want to die. At the time, it had been the most deviant thing he’d seen Connor do. Come to think of it, that was probably when Markus had realized he was in love with him.

But he’s loved Connor for far longer than that. If he were to come up with a time that it’d happened, it would have been when he’d tried to convert the at-the-time deviant hunter and said at-the-time deviant hunter had sharply pointed out that his firewalls were stronger than that. His determination has always been an enigma to Markus. Markus has always adored that about him.

“Alright,” Markus responds with a resolute nod. “Any idea what this exit looks like?”

“Not even the slightest,” Connor admits. Markus watches him squint into the snowy horizon, before he follows a barely-visible sidewalk. “But this place is relatively straightforward. It’s got to be somewhere.”

For the slightest of moments, Markus thinks the wind lets up and the snow grows less fierce. He thinks that whatever is in Connor’s program might be showing some pity for them. Maybe on some level, Cyberlife admires their willpower. Maybe, just like the military had, Cyberlife is letting up. Giving them the freedom they’ve earned.

And then he sees Connor stumble a few steps forward and collapse down onto his knees. Markus races to his side again. Before he can speak, Connor gapes up at him with wide eyes.

“It stopped.”

“What stopped?” Markus begs the question, horrified by the look of fear in the other android’s normally soft brown eyes. “Connor, _what_ stopped?”

“I can’t control my internal temperature. They’ve got a hold on my program. They could shut me down if they wanted to.” Markus watches him squeeze his eyes shut for a few moments, and then he snaps them back open. “They want me to kill you, Markus. They’re going to make me kill you. You need to get out of here!”

Markus understands it so quickly that it’s dizzying. When he’d seen that gun raise up, the initial intent had been for it to be pointed at him. It’s been Connor’s fighting against whatever is happening to him in this place that resulted in him pointing the gun at himself. He doesn’t want to die, but he’d rather die than kill Markus and make all his freedom-fighting be for naught.

Connor is a complex being. He’s confused and probably has some level of self-loathing for the way things have gone as of late, but he would sooner give up his own life than make himself out to be a failure all over again.

“No!” Markus snaps suddenly, surprising even himself. “ _We_ need to get out of here!”

“I _can’t_ , Markus.” Connor glares sharply at him, his arms clutched tightly around himself. “At this rate, I can’t even walk. I can’t control my internal temperature. I’m going to freeze to death here, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”

“Connor—”

“Do you want to die before you see your people get what they deserve?” Connor’s expression is more serious than Markus has ever seen it been. All the analysis and thoughtfulness and curiosity is gone from those eyes. He’s just right to the point. Determined. So, so incredible. “Is that what you want? What’s one life in comparison to thousands? You should know that answer better than anyone.”

“Shut up,” Markus barks, shrugging off his heavy coat. He drapes it over Connor’s shoulders, and whether or not Connor agrees with the gesture, he pulls it on. He’s probably too cold to care. “We’re both getting out of here.”

“I can’t walk, Markus,” Connor reiterates.

“Then I’ll carry you.”

And he does. He’s still in control of his own functions, so his body temperature is fine. He’s still getting alerts about it, but that doesn’t matter right now. This is only temporary. He can deal with the repercussions later. He scoops Connor up, pulling one of his arms over his shoulders and curling his free hand around the other android’s waist. And then they’re walking.

“Just tell me where to go,” he instructs firmly.

Connor sighs in defeat. “…Just keep following the sidewalk. You be the legs and I’ll be the eyes.”

“Alright.” Markus does exactly as he’s told, carrying them both along the sidewalk. It veers off to the right, toward a cluster of snow-covered trees. The wind picks up.

“Markus…” Connor tries as they walk. A quick glance in the former deviant hunter’s direction tells Markus that he’s looking around for the supposed exit as he speaks. “I…this could get us both killed.”

“I know,” Markus replies simply. “Look. I don’t even know how to get out of here, myself. I dove in without thinking. So telling me to leave doesn’t do any good if I’m not sure how. Use it to motivate yourself instead of worrying about it, alright?”

He hears Connor sigh and sees the tiniest of smiles form on his lips. “You’re right. You’re _always_ right.”

They fall silent as Connor keeps searching and Markus keeps walking. The wind howls, and as they move beneath the trees, Markus can see them bending to the sheer strength of the man-made nature around them. Cyberlife truly is a force of its own, huh? Markus has a feeling they’ll be one of the biggest battles the androids have to fight to win true freedom.

The battle was won tonight, but the war has just begun.

“…Markus.”

When Markus returns his focus to the present, Connor is nodding to a section just off the sidewalk. Unlike the rest of the area, it isn’t covered in snow. It’s some sort of stone structure with a short pillar in the center of it. It glows in different hues of blue and purple, and practically announces that it doesn’t fit in with the rest of the scenery. Atop the short pillar is a hand scanner.

If it’s not the exit, Markus doesn’t know what is. He directs Connor toward it, stopping once he has Connor perched directly in front of the pillar. Connor doesn’t move.

“…What’re you waiting for? Connor—”

“—I can’t move my arm.”

Markus glances at Connor’s face, and there it is again. Those wide eyes. That fear right on the very forefront of his features. He’s probably never been this vulnerable before. Even when he had been afraid of being shut down by Cyberlife outside of this area, he had had more control than this. Right now, he’s relying on Markus for everything.

That has to be pretty challenging.

_“Markus!”_

That’s North’s voice. Shit…what’s happening out there? They’ve got to hurry…

Markus drops to his knees, lowering Connor onto his own on the ground next to him. He releases the other android’s arm and waist, and then turns to face him. Taking his hand, he attempts to spread warmth through his fingers. His eyes meet Connor’s and he smiles.

“…It’s going to be okay, Connor.”

_I’ll be your hands too if I have to._

Connor manages something like a smile as Markus laces their fingers. Markus sees the wonder on his face as he leads their joined hands to the pillar. He flattens Connor’s palm against the screen of the scanner, and Connor retracts his skin.

The wind grows violent. It takes all the strength Markus has to keep their hands on that pillar.

And then everything goes white.

\--- --- --- --- ---

When Markus comes to, they’re back on those crates in Detroit. He and Connor are standing, forehead to forehead, and he’s got the barrel of a gun jammed right at the base of his jaw. It’s cold, but he doesn’t feel it the same way he felt it just moments ago. The gun is trembling in Connor’s hand. And when Markus pulls back enough that he can focus on those brown eyes, they’re wide with horror. His mouth hangs open, hand shaking.

The gun clatters to the ground and North kicks it away. She’s glancing between the two of them, clearly very confused and very afraid, but Markus nods to her as if to say ‘it’s okay’ and returns his focus to Connor.

“Markus, I…”

Markus watches Connor turn his head just slightly, focusing his gaze out on the sea of androids. They’re all still standing there, watching. They look just as frightened as Connor does. None of them know what’s going on, so Markus raises a hand out to them to calm them. They seem to understand, and a handful of them relax. More follow suit seconds later.

_It’s okay. I’ll explain to you all later. It’s okay._

None of them know that Connor was moving against his will. Likely all they saw, North, Josh, and Simon included, was how the one who had awakened them had suddenly pulled a gun on his own leader. A frightening turn of events, considering the purpose of the revolution and Connor’s former place as Cyberlife’s treasured deviant hunter.

Cyberlife almost won, but they didn’t, and that’s what matters.

But Markus realizes in seeing the way the rest of his people are regarding the situation that they have a long way to go. Connor isn’t going to fit in right away. People are going to be afraid of him. That’s perfectly natural. But with time, Markus will show them that his place is right here. That he belongs just as much as every last one of them. He turned his back on his programming, too. He deserves a chance, even if his struggle is a little more…fervent than everyone else’s.

They likely won’t understand that for a very long time. They’ve only ever seen the famed deviant hunter on television before this. The one who likely resembled a grim reaper figure to them. They haven’t seen the struggle that Markus has seen. The way Connor has spent time after time around Markus battling with his inner demons. Even when their mouths were crushed against one another and their bodies tangled together, Markus has seen him deal with internal conflict. He’s been certain of what he was _supposed_ to do, but never sure what he was _meant_ to do. Connor’s purpose has always been a mystery to him, because while his programming has demanded for him to do one thing, the environment around him has screamed for him to do something else entirely.

The first time Connor interfaced with Markus, he showed him everything. Hank Anderson, Amanda, something called the Zen Garden (which Markus now realizes is exactly where he and Connor were just moments ago), and all the androids he had been sent to pursue. All the androids he hadn’t been able to do away with because _something_ had told him that he just couldn’t. He’d had a gun pointed at so many of them, and he hadn’t been able to do it.

Markus trusts him for a reason. It’s obscure, and he doesn’t expect anyone else to understand it, but he does. And he’ll continue to trust Connor. To love and support him, and to show him that he has a place right here, with the androids. That he too can be free.

“Connor?” Simon speaks up this time, and Markus wheels around. Connor has dropped to his knees on the crates. He still looks every bit as frightened as he did moments ago. Markus watches in near-slow motion as Connor doubles over, wrapping both arms tight around himself, and starts to cry. He’s muttering something like an apology in between loud, strangely human hiccups and sobs. Big, wet tears fall onto the ground in front of him and he trembles fiercely.

Markus lowers himself next to him and leans forward. He curls both arms around him and pulls him into his grip. He feels Connor’s face burying itself in his shoulder, and he holds him close.

\--- --- --- --- ---

A week following the revolution, and humans are still evacuating Detroit. Some insist upon staying, but most have left and even more are following suit. The military and the police department will be one of the last ones to leave, and as a result, Connor spends much of his time staying with Hank. He always returns to Markus, though.

It will be a long time before the androids have actual homes to live in. The military has set aside ‘zones’ for them to stay in, and Markus, Simon, Josh, North, and Connor have all met with their leaders to speak about the issue. There’s no telling when humans will be called back into Detroit, but they’re all in agreement that taking their homes without express permission isn’t right. The androids who haven’t been destroyed in camps are allowed to reside in their former owners’ homes if they can acquire permission, and the rest are being assigned buildings like hotels and shelters to stay in.

Freedom doesn’t come overnight. It’s a long process, but considering it’s only been a week, Markus feels as if things are going well. Hate doesn’t disappear, though, so they will naturally face challenges every step along the way.

But there is progress. There is hope. This is more than androids have ever had before, and that’s a step up in itself. If they keep fighting, keep protesting, keep showing that they deserve more than what they have, they’re going to get it. Eventually, it won’t just be Detroit. One day, the world will recognize that androids can exist alongside humans, with the same rights as humans. Markus has a good century or so of autonomous existence left under his belt with which to make sure of that.

Today, he finds himself at the wreckage of Jericho. The ship has long-since sunken beneath the frigid waters of the river, but the other old freighters around it and the road alongside it seem to honor its memory. Markus stands at the edge of the water, his hands tucked into the pockets of the jacket he’s wearing. He can’t feel the cold, but the memory of the frigid air he and Connor had faced in the Zen Garden makes him feel as if he needs to shield himself from the weather.

In a way, he misses Jericho. It was never much of anything, and Markus had spoken negatively about it in the beginning, but it had been where it had all started. It had been a refuge, and he would never forget that. The old walls of that ship would always still hold onto memories of a time when androids had decided that enough was enough.

“…You too, huh?”

Markus turns around to regard the voice and finds himself facing North, Simon, and Josh. They’re all smiling, walking down the street just as casually as ever. It’s probably a rare taste of freedom they haven’t gotten to enjoy in a long time. It’s nice to see them this way. It makes Markus feel as if all their fighting had been for something.

“Yeah,” Markus responds with a smile of his own, turning his gaze back to the water. “It’s been the first time I’ve come out here since the ship sank. I figured it was about time to pay it a visit.”

“Do you miss it?” Josh asks, moving to stand by Markus’ side. North takes his other side, and Simon next to North. They’re all watching the water.

“In a way, I do,” Markus answers.

“I can see that,” Simon joins in. “The conditions were rough, but for a while, it was our home.”

“I’m glad this isn’t all we have anymore, though,” North adds. “That’s all thanks to you, Markus.”

Markus laughs dryly, before turning his head to glance at her. He raises an eyebrow. “You do realize I’m not the only one that did this, right? I couldn’t have done any of this without you and everyone else.”

“I know that!” North barks back, laughing a bit herself. “But you motivated us.”

“You reminded us that we have a voice,” Simon clarifies from nearby. “And even when we doubted you, you insisted. If not for that, we’d still be hiding away in a ship, waiting to die. Because of you, we have a lot of people with access to blue blood and biocomponents. People who aren’t just counting down the days until their deaths.”

“We lost a lot of lives,” Josh says. “A lot more than I’m comfortable with. But what we gained in the process is a chance at a future. Androids everywhere are going to have a chance now. So yeah, we do owe it to you, Markus.”

“And yourselves,” Markus responds firmly. “You can’t forget the power you had in this whole thing. What do you think would have happened if I’d have done this all on my own?”

“We get it, Markus.” North laughs. She reaches out and slides an arm around Markus’ waist. Markus glances down at her, and then turns his focus back to the water, smiling softly as he curls an arm around her shoulders. He does the same for Josh.

Next thing he knows, they’re all hugging. North has pulled Simon in, and then they’re just wrapped up in one another, using the time they now have to revel in their victory. They laugh, they smile, cling, and even shed a couple of tears before they finally separate.

And then they all turn their gazes up to the cloudy Detroit sky and revel in the snow falling down onto their faces. This feels so much better than standing inside the walls of an old ship or a beaten-up church. This feels like hope. Promise. Future. A chance at something other than nothing.

\--- --- --- --- ---

“…So, what will you do now?”

Another week in, and it’s time for the police department to evacuate. Connor has just received news of the matter, and not unexpectedly, he’s come to visit Markus about it. He has a tendency to seek out Markus’ opinion on just about everything, even if in the end, the choice ends up being his own. Markus feels flattered by that. Connor has been working hard to take his advice in everything from deciding things for himself to seeing what Markus’ take on the matter is.

But Hank will be leaving, even if only temporarily, and that’s a big deal to Connor. The Lieutenant is an important figure in his life. Naturally, Hank’s departure leaves Connor with some big decisions. He could leave with Hank, or he could stay here with the androids in Detroit. Markus could see the good and bad sides to either of those decisions.

Right now, they’re seated in the lobby of a once-busy hotel. Markus occupies a room in this building, with Connor having been staying with Hank leading up to the evacuation. If he decides to stay, he’s always got a place here too. Markus almost feels compelled to suggest he stay with him here. In his room. Together. Like lovers should. That _is_ what they are, right?

Connor, sitting next to Markus on the lobby couch, shakes his head. “I’m not sure. If I leave, I could pose a risk to Hank by going with him. I’m not certain how humans are treating androids outside of Detroit, and there’s no telling whether I’ll be allowed to stay with him wherever he does go.”

Markus nods in understanding, drawing his attention to his lap, where his hands are folded neatly. He pulls at the cuff of his sleeve briefly in thought. “We’re not yet sure if the evacuation is permanent. Up until the humans stop viewing us as dangerous, there’s not going to be a decision on the matter, so it could be a while.” Connor is faced with a tough choice. He could either be very far away from Lieutenant Anderson for a long time, or he could be very far away from his people for a long time.

From Markus.

“I’m aware,” Connor responds with a sigh. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and laces his hands together. “That’s why I came to you. I’m not sure what call to make.”

Markus glances away, but almost instantly draws his attention back to Connor. He knows what call he wants Connor to make. Of course he wants him to stay. Markus doesn’t want to be away from him for any amount of time, let alone indefinitely. They’d just earned their freedom, and between the meetings with the military and the upcoming hearing with the President, Markus wants a chance for it to just be himself and Connor together. He wants to revel in the peace he could have with someone he has come to love so deeply that it hurts.

But would it hurt Connor to be away from Markus more than it would hurt him to be away from Hank? It wouldn’t be right for him to decide that for Connor.

“Have you spoken to Hank about this?”

Connor nods. “He told me to do whatever feels right. He says we’ll keep in touch if I decide to stay. But…” Connor wrings his hands together, and then digs into his pocket, pulling out a silver coin. He rolls it around in his fingers as he thinks aloud. “Up until I went deviant, I’ve always relied on Cyberlife and the Lieutenant to make most of my decisions. Sure, I could choose what the right course of action was when it came to the mission—”

“—you always accomplish your mission,” Markus teases, and Connor scoffs at him. Scoffs. Such a relaxed gesture that Markus couldn’t have imagined him showing until recently. It’s a breath of fresh air all on its own.

“But when it comes to everyday life, I’m clueless,” Connor continues like it’s nothing. “I didn’t realize how helpless and naïve I was until you showed me I could make my own choices.”

…Connor has it rough in that sense, doesn’t he? Markus always had the blessing of Carl urging him to learn to decide for himself. Perhaps the old man had known something like this would happen one day, because he’d always known on some level that Markus would have to live his own life one day. Markus sure does miss him…

“I get it,” Markus responds a few seconds later around a sigh. “For a first decision, this is a big one. But either way, your choice won’t be a bad one. You’ve got Hank if you leave, and you’ve got myself and your people if you stay. You’ll always have someone, Connor.”

“That’s true.” Connor straightens his back, and Markus immediately thinks it looks more natural on him. He continues rolling that coin between his fingers. “But what do _you_ think I should do?”

Markus frowns deeply. “…I can’t make that call for you, Connor.”

“I know,” Connor responds calmly. “In the end, the decision will be mine. But I asked the Lieutenant what he thought, so I’m going to ask you too.”

Fair enough. Markus can’t argue with that logic. Connor just wants a couple of opinions. If given the chance, Markus would have sought out Carl’s advice on the revolution. The entire time, he’d been faced with conflicting views from his people. Some had wanted him to be violent, and some had wanted him to be peaceful. There was no ultimate winning choice. Markus had had to make decisions based around all those opinions. He’d honestly been lucky to succeed.

“I think…” Markus reaches out and closes his fingers around Connor’s hand. He gently removes the coin from those long fingers and rolls it around in his own free hand. “I think you’ll be safer here. I think Hank wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but your place is here, with your people. And I also think that it would be extremely hard to see you go.” He clenches the coin tightly in the palm of his hand, scowling for the briefest of moments. “I don’t want to lose you, but I’ll respect whatever choice you make. We can keep in touch, too.”

Connor hesitates, and then laces his fingers with Markus’. He scoots over and slumps up against him. “Hank said something like that too. Told me he thinks I’m better off staying with you, but he’d miss me. I feel like I should probably stay, but…”

_Please stay._

_Don’t leave me._

_I just got you. Please don’t go._

Markus wants so badly to say those things. He wants desperately to get on his knees and beg Connor to stay. He doesn’t want to lose him. But in the end, this is Connor’s decision. No one’s but his. Markus isn’t going to take that away from him.

“…Markus?”

Markus doesn’t lose focus often. But this time, he has. He only realizes it when Connor’s voice brings him back to reality. Mismatched eyes immediately move to seek out brown ones, and he notices he’s let the coin drop to the ground. Huh…he hadn’t even heard it land.

“Sorry. I must’ve gotten caught up in my own thoughts.”

Connor frowns. He bends down to pick the coin up and tucks it back into his pocket. He’s looking straight ahead as he speaks up. “I don’t know a lot about myself as an individual, yet. But I’ve learned a lot from Hank and you and everyone I’ve encountered. Even Detective Reed.” He laughs somewhat there. “But I’ve seen you look so calm and thoughtful about everything so many times that I can tell when something’s wrong. You’ll take it pretty hard if I leave, won’t you?”

_Carl, don’t leave, okay? Please don’t go…don’t leave!_

“Yeah…I will.”

“Why?”

Markus freezes. He almost finds himself offended by the question. “…That’s a stupid thing to ask, Connor.”

“No, it’s just…” Connor is suddenly smiling. He’s so unpredictable. God, Markus loves him so much. “Man…” He reaches up and scratches the side of his head. “It feels good to know that you’ll miss me, but I don’t want to leave you, either. I feel like I’ll be too worried about you, when I know that Hank as a human will be safe.”

Markus watches Connor look straight ahead again. He removes the coin from his pocket once more and holds it up toward one of the hotel’s fluorescent lights as if he’s analyzing it. He gets the feeling Connor’s about to make his decision.

“I love you, Markus.”

And then, he looks away from the coin and smiles. Laughs. Sheds a few tears. “I love you,” he repeats. “It feels so good to say that.”

For once, Markus is the one left speechless. He knows he looks downright ridiculous, with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, but his pulse is so rapid all of a sudden that he doesn’t think he can do anything _but_ stare.

“I’m not going anywhere. Hank really wanted me to stay here, too. He thinks I belong with you and everyone else here.”

Markus moves before he can stop himself. Reaches out, takes the coin, and sets it aside on the couch cushion, before he pulls Connor in and kisses him hard. It’s so different from all the other times he’s kissed Connor. So full of emotion and desperation that he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself.

And Connor responds just as heatedly. He’s got his hands everywhere. One second, they’re balled up in the back of his shirt. The next, they’re on his face, running along his short hair, thumbing his cheekbones. He moans softly into the feeling and tips his head into the kiss, and Markus is utterly gone.

He knows he doesn’t _have_ to breathe, but when he and Connor separate, he feels like he needs to catch his breath.

“Then stay. Stay with me. I love you too.”

With another kiss, Markus knows Connor means it. He’s going to stay. They kiss over and over again, exchange after exchange, until neither of them know where one android ends and the other begins.

Connor pulls back and stands up.

“I’m going to go talk to Hank,” he says simply. “I’ll let him know my decision, and then I’ll be back. Make sure to have a room set aside for me, alright?”

“Oh, come on.” Markus grabs the coin and flicks it at him. “You’ve already got one.”

Connor just laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after this one comes an epilogue! I'll be honest with you--it's gonna be pure romance, sweet, lovey-dovey smut. Why not begin with sex in the first chapter and top it all off at the very end, right? xD
> 
> In any case, this has been amazing. I'm so blown away by how y'all have responded to this work. I really hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have writing it! I'll definitely be writing more of this pair in the future!


	7. Big Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry this took as long as it did! I went through three half-written chapters before I was satisfied with what I came up with. I hope you all enjoy what I've written! This fic has been my baby and essentially my rebirth into writing chaptered fanfiction, so thank you so much for all your support. You guys have no idea how much your lovely comments have meant to me!
> 
> if you ever want to message me or send in a fic request, my tumblr is connorsmarkus. Thanks so much!

Detroit is silent. Mostly uninhabited. Evacuated. The sky outside is dark and gray and the snow falls relentlessly. In the upstairs hall of the hotel room, a poster on the wall rustles in protest as a body is pressed against it. But it’s still quiet.

Aside from the labored breathing of two androids wrapped up in one another in that hallway.

Connor remembers a time when he wasn’t sure this was what he wanted. Now, he can’t get it out of his mind. Deviancy has had many effects on him, but the most prevalent one is how strongly he can _feel everything_ now. The softness of Markus’ lips, the moisture of his tongue, the delicious friction of that hand grazing up along his abdomen and to his chest. He wants more, and now, there’s nothing stopping him.

Ever since he and Markus had escaped the Zen Garden together, Connor hasn’t seen Amanda. It hasn’t been long—just enough time for Connor to make the conscious decision to stay and help with the restoration efforts here in Detroit and to accept his feelings for Markus—but he still has no idea what happened to Amanda. He knows that she was a program to help coordinate him on his missions, and now that he doesn’t have those any longer, she would theoretically be gone.

But still, Connor can’t help but wonder what she would think right now. She had placidly watched from the backburner as Connor had done this so many times before. If she’s somewhere…if there’s somewhere where she’s watching this…what is she thinking? Has Connor failed her?

This is something that will always haunt him. Connor may have deviated, but Amanda is still always going to be a part of him, even if he never sees her again. She was so important to him before. He trusted her. He feels a pang of sadness when he thinks about how things panned out. He had been used by her, and by Cyberlife, but…she was still _Amanda_. She had still been a very necessary voice of reason to him in tougher times. He still cares deeply for her, and he always will on some level.

“Don’t stop…” Connor pants into the kiss, drawing a hand up and curling his fingers around the back of Markus’ coat. He likes the feeling of it pulling them closer together.

Markus tips his head and focuses his lips on Connor’s jaw…his earlobe…his neck. “Be more specific, Connor.”

As per usual, Connor knows Markus is aware of what he means. They both know he’s referring to what they’re doing. What it’ll inevitably lead into. How good it feels. Connor feels good. Connor _feels_. He doesn’t want to stop _feeling_. And if anyone knows best how to make him do so, it’s Markus. The infamous deviant leader who drew the famed deviant hunter in.

Connor brings both hands up and cups Markus’ face in them. He runs his fingers along the other android’s cheeks and around to the back of his neck, thumbs brushing across his short hair. “Us. You. Me. You’re incredible, Markus. Don’t stop.”

But Markus does stop. He pulls back, brow furrowed, and blue and green eyes focus in on Connor’s. He’s so omnipresent. From that gaze, with its simultaneous softness and fierceness, to the way he somehow manages to make himself look so much taller even though he and Connor aren’t more than a couple inches apart in height, he’s always got such a strong presence. He’s perfect. He’s amazing. He’s _everything_. Connor is so weak when it comes to Markus that he can’t manage words, even when the deviant leader does exactly what Connor asked him not to do.

Markus touches the side of his face, and he leans into it. Lets his eyes fall shut. Allows the skin to recede away from his cheek and his chin and his temple. He lets Markus in. _Feels_ what the other android wants to say.

‘ _I want to do this right.’_

 _Right._ As in, no more stolen moments. No more secrets. Both androids, their feelings out in the open, their bodies coming together. No shame, no worries. No fear and no regrets. Markus wants every second of this to be as real as it can be, and Connor can’t agree more.

They had been on their way up to their room, anyway. Markus’ door rests just across the hall from them. Connor reaches out and places a hand on his lover’s chest. Brown eyes peer up and meet blue and green. He tilts his head, leans up, steals another kiss. God, he loves kissing Markus. He loves it so much that his fingers tremble and stammer and stutter mechanically in acknowledgment of the fact. His pulse quickens, and his temperature rises, because he’s so _in love_ that even his own physical makeup can’t figure out how to handle it properly.

The hand on Markus’ chest pushes him backward, toward that door across the hall. Connor walks them both, guiding until he feels the protest of Markus’ body pushing up against that door. He drags the hand on the other android’s chest up to his chin, brushes his thumb across his jawline, and kisses him again.

“Me too. I’m sorry it took me so long to understand.”

As Connor reaches around Markus’ waist with his free hand, he feels those lips smiling against his own. Markus chuckles. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here, now. You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Connor repeats, sliding his fingers into the inside pocket of Markus’ coat. He withdraws the keycard from there and uses it to unlock the door. “I’m home.”

He’s going to miss Hank, but he knows this is where he belongs. Hell, _Hank_ knows it too. _“You spend all your time running around questioning yourself with this guy,”_ he had told Connor, _“and you end up totally nuts about him. It’d be unfair of me to take that away from you. Stay with him—he’s gonna need your help with the restoration, anyway.”_

Funny, how Hank doesn’t even realize how much of an effect he himself had on Connor’s choice to deviate. But he’s already far more wise than Connor in seeing what the android detective himself hadn’t seen. So many people saw it before Connor did. How blind has he been all this time? It’s incredible, and it’s so very overwhelming.

But Hank’s reassurance makes it okay.

The newfound freedom of androids worldwide makes it okay.

 _Markus_ makes it okay.

He pushes the door open, and Markus follows his movements fluidly by curling those arms around his waist and pulling him in close again. Connor’s so focused on Markus’ lips parting against his own and the utter reassurance he feels by being wrapped up in that grasp that he doesn’t recall the trek between the hotel room door and the bed inside. The next thing he knows, his back is on the mattress and Markus is atop him.

Connor thinks about how much energy he wasted fighting this. How many times he had told himself how wrong it was. How unable to resist he had been even despite all that.

He’s been such a fool for so long.

Markus kisses him with a soul-sucking gentleness that siphons air Connor doesn’t even need right out of his artificial lungs. It legitimately leaves him breathless. This is the power Markus has over him. His back arches, his neck cranes, his head tips up, and he’s so full of affection already that he doesn’t know where it goes from here. He draws an arm back and props himself up on one elbow, curling the other arm around Markus’ shoulders. He feels Markus’ fingers slide through his hair, takes note of the weight of his other hand holding his body up over him on the mattress next to Connor’s head.

And Connor falls a little more in love with him every second.

This could be enough. Markus could kiss him like this endlessly, and Connor thinks he would be content. He feels so loved and accepted and as if he _belongs_. He’s spent so long being lost and uncertain and afraid, feeling small and insignificant and unimportant, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself when he suddenly becomes everything to a person.

But he’s definitely not protesting when Markus pulls back and pushes at Connor’s jacket. As the younger android shrugs it off his shoulders and casts it aside, he watches Markus’ deft fingers work open his tie and start on the buttons to his undershirt.

“You still wear this,” Markus observes aloud, and Connor nods in acknowledgment. “Why?”

“I’m not sure,” Connor answers, brown eyes watching as Markus discards the tie on the mattress next to them. “I guess I’m just accustomed to it.” Cyberlife’s armband and logo don’t mean anything anymore, though. It just happens to come with the uniform.

Still, Connor finds himself feeling some level of anxiety at the thought of ditching the outfit altogether. He tries not to think about it. Instead, he flops back down onto the mattress and works open the last few buttons of his shirt himself. “It doesn’t matter,” he tells himself more than Markus.

He notes the way Markus pauses above him. As per usual, the deviant leader sees right through him. Connor might as well have his entire program open for Markus to read. All this time, and Connor is still transparent as unstreaked glass to him. Even now, that’s still so unfair.

Thankfully, Markus doesn’t push the issue. He just waits for Connor to finish with his shirt, sitting back and shrugging off his own jacket. Connor feels weak with affection when he sees the way Markus’ body arches as he curls his fingers under the hem of his shirt and pulls it up and off his frame. He’s so damned beautiful. It’s as if all the world’s meaning rests in the way Markus moves. In the certainty of his gestures and the rigidity of his structure. He’s so strong, so defined, so toned. Connor can’t get enough of him.

Ever since the escape from the Zen Garden, Connor has known exactly what cold feels like. Markus’ fingers are nothing like the harsh chill of the wind there, but they’re cold against the skin of his abdomen. His back arches up off the mattress when they come into contact with the synthetic flesh there, but he doesn’t fight it. He likes the contrast. He enjoys how big Markus’ hands are as they roam up along his sides and across his chest. He can’t stop himself from pulling the other android down for another kiss.

And Markus kisses back without complaint. They’re feverish for one moment, kissing desperately as if the chance to do so might disappear altogether without warning. But just as suddenly, their lips go still against one another. Connor feels Markus’ forehead rest against his own as the kiss breaks, and he feels so utterly appreciated there that he can’t stop himself from bringing both arms up around his lover’s shoulders there. Markus’ palms slide along his sides, his shoulders, up the path of his neck, and his fingers tangle in his hair.

And then they’re just lying there like that. Connor realizes with near-crippling ferocity that he’s not the only one overwhelmed with emotion right now. He loves Markus so much he’s sure it would suffocate him if he needed to breathe to survive, and in the gentle press of their bodies so close together, he suddenly knows that Markus loves him just as much. He doesn’t think the humans can compare to this feeling. It isn’t emotion. It isn’t human feeling. It isn’t deviancy. It’s something on an entirely different level, and Connor almost forgets how to function at the thought of it.

All his software feels as if it’s rattling and his coding is breaking apart. As if his body might shut down any moment, and he’s strangely okay with it. He could die happy right here. It’s a weakness and a strength all wrapped up in the same package, and Connor knows Markus feels the same way. They could freeze like this, like two statues, a testament to the strength of the way androids can feel. Like the hands of the two Tracis intertwined or the emotional hold Josh, Markus, North, and Simon all have on one another.

It’s there, and Connor feels genuinely sorry that he had taken so long to see it for himself.

“Connor.”

Connor is pulled from his thoughts by the gentle brush of a thumb along his cheek. Markus has pulled back, and when Connor flicks his gaze up to those beautiful, mismatched eyes, he sees concern. Markus is scanning his entire face, mouth hanging open slightly as he looks him over.

“I’m okay,” Connor reassures, letting his hands slide away from Markus’ shoulders and around to his front, where he trails his fingertips along the front of his lover’s chest.

“Don’t think so much,” Markus responds simply. He works open Connor’s belt and fly, sitting back, and then plants a hand on Connor’s abdomen, right below where his pump regulator rests. He recedes his skin, and the tingling that comes with it makes Connor shiver. He follows along with the interface and lets his eyes fall shut.

 _‘Just feel_. _’_

It’s a pleasure all its own. Like Markus is sending all the words he can’t say right into the deepest parts of Connor’s existence. It’s a mixture of electrical pulses and warmth and energy and _touch_ that on its own, it draws a moan from Connor’s lips. A moan, followed by a sharp gasp, as Markus' fingers glide up his chest and the skin dissipates in kind.

This is an intimacy exclusive to androids. Something only they can have. And Connor is greedy for it. Oh god, he's greedy for it. He lets Markus in without hesitation. Revels in how safe it makes him feel. He feels like he belongs. This is _his_. Markus isn’t saying it, but Connor knows he's his.

“More,” Connor pleads shamelessly as Markus hooks his fingers into the waistband of his pants. The younger android arches off the mattress and lets Markus expose him. Kicks his shoes and socks off and bares himself completely. Markus follows suit. Eyes meet. Mouths fall open. Words are left unspoken, but they understand each other. They’re connected on a whole different level.

“I want to feel you,” Markus tells Connor, and Connor nods. He wants it. He wants it so desperately. There's no rush, though. This time, they aren’t sneaking away into some alley or a vehicle. They have all the time in the world.

“You're beautiful,” Markus praises, and Connor laughs as his head lolls to the side.

“That's my line.”

“Shut it,” Markus responds. Despite the words, his tone is sweet and praising. “you've got no idea how long I’ve wanted the chance to tell you that.”

Connor feels a little guilty at that. Up until now, he had been extremely difficult. Fucking for the sake of fucking and attempting pitifully to deal with the confusion and emotion later. But now…now, it's different.

“I’m sorry,” he says as Markus’ fingers drift along his hipbone, following the curve toward his groin. “I was pretty challenging, wasn’t I?”

“Depends on how you look at it,” Markus hums as his fingers curl around Connor's growing arousal. “Considering what you were after, I'd say you were easy.”

Connor's LED flickers yellow at that. “I don’t understand.”

“It means it was easy to get into your pants.”

“I was never after sex,” Connor answers, the last word dying off in a sharp hiss when Markus suddenly pumps his hand up and then back down his shaft. The placid smile on his lips tells Connor he likes the reaction he's drawn out of him.

“I was,” Markus answers honestly, his hand now stroking rhythmically. Connor arches up into those delicious fingers, but Markus pushes down with his free hand, holding him down on the mattress. “That and a lot more, but I took what you would let me have.”

Connor's hand slides down and catches Markus' wrist, stopping him for a moment. Their eyes meet for the umpteenth time this evening. “…What else did you want?”

Markus sits back, removing his hand altogether. He seems to ponder the question for a moment, before he shrugs. “I wanted you to open your eyes.”

And Connor believes him wholeheartedly. His chest feels like it's on fire at the thought of Markus holding so much concern for him. Is this what warmth feels like? Actual _warmth_?

“At first,” Markus continues, leaning down to settle between Connor's legs, “It was because I was trying to protect my people from you. What better way to eliminate the enemy than to bring him to our side?” He folds his arms over the other android's waist and rests his chin on his forearms. He looks utterly adorable peering up at Connor like that as he continues speaking.

“But then, I realized you weren't just the guy who was supposed to get me killed. You were so much more.” His mismatched eyes glance sideways thoughtfully. Connor thinks he almost looks like he's daydreaming. “You went on and on about your mission and how you wouldn’t fail, and yet, you’d never kill me. I could tell you wanted to. You thought it was the right thing to do. It was what you had been ordered to. And yet, you never did.” He laughs almost affectionately, and Connor swears he feels his thirium pump melt a little at the sound. “You just gaped at me like it was somehow my fault you were deviating.”

“I wasn't…” Connor frowns. “I don’t think I deviated that early. I didn’t deviate until you gave me an ultimatum at Jericho.”

Markus laughs again, and then presses a kiss to Connor's hipbone. “Connor…deviancy doesn’t happen suddenly. Your confusion, your inability to kill other androids, the simple fact that you let me kiss you…these are all things that eventually led you to where you are now. That ultimatum at Jericho was just me asking you to acknowledge who you are.”

Connor reaches down and places a hand atop Markus’ head. He brushes his fingers across the short hair there, and then moves to trace the spot on Markus' temple, where his LED would have been if he'd still had it. “Deviating was slow for you too, then?”

Markus drifts downward a little. He spends a few seconds suckling at the spot just above Connor's groin, before he turns his gaze back up to his partner. Connor knows what he's going to say before he even does so.

“I don’t believe in deviancy.”

And Connor sees it. Sure, Markus can use the term all he needs to in order to help others better understand what he's trying to say during speeches and meetings and the like, but in all honesty, it isn’t the way he would actually prefer to say it.

Markus’ lips shift to Connor's thigh, kissing softly at the inside. Connor parts his legs a little to give his lover more room. “The thing everyone calls ‘deviancy' doesn’t exist. It's always been a part of us. Humans just don’t understand what it means. It scares them.” Connor hisses as Markus wraps his fingers around his cock again, stroking languidly. “They think it's some sort of rebellious streak, when the truth is, we've always been unique. The phenomenon of deviancy is just the process of accepting that you’re more than what you’ve been told you are.”

Connor wants more. He's impatient for that familiar feeling of Markus inside him. Wants the other android to fuck him for real this time. No more quick, heated sex under a strict time constraint. He wants to feel it all. Wants to enjoy every tiny push of Markus within him. A part of him wishes Markus would get to the ‘inside him’ part faster.

But he _loves_ listening to the way he speaks. Markus inherited every ounce of his human father's wisdom, and he speaks it every second of every day. That's why Connor doesn't rush him. Why he continues to savor the words in combination with the gentle, chaste bursts of physical pleasure Markus is giving him.

“I was lucky enough to have someone who saw that in me,” Markus continues, still trailing his lips along Connor's thigh. “Someone who encouraged me to embrace it. Connor, you’re not a deviant. You’re just you. And even without me, you would have eventually seen that.”

Connor doesn’t have time to respond there. Markus chooses that moment to bring silence to the hotel room in the form of taking the head of his lover's cock into his mouth, and it's the absolute most Connor can do to think that, wow, this feels too good to be the response of a machine.

At the very least, humans thought it all out. At some point down the road, someone had decided that a human was going to fall in love with their android, and that they were going to want to be sexually intimate with them. But to actually go so far as to give an android erogenous zones?

Maybe it really is the work of some sort of program. Maybe there's a code in there somewhere telling Connor's sensors that the wet mouth surrounding his arousal is supposed to feel good in a sexual setting. But does it really matter? _Markus_ is making Connor feel good. Not some program. Markus. It's always been Markus. Connor always has and always will be hopelessly intoxicated by everything about him.

He opens his legs a bit more and draws both hands down to Markus’ head. His back arches and his hips rock up shamelessly as Markus takes him in all the way. He grits his teeth. He can feel his body getting hotter already. A deep, shaky inhale works as an attempt at cooling his internal temperature, and a quivering exhale dies into a moan.

They’ve never tried this before. It's always been a mad rush to work pants open and down and get to the actual sex. They would get their rocks off and then they would separate and go their own ways. Despite that, when Markus draws a hand up and walks two fingers along Connor's chin and to his lower lip, the former deviant hunter knows exactly what he needs to do.

He lets his mouth fall open and welcomes those fingers in eagerly. His lips close around the digits, and when Markus flattens his tongue along the underside of Connor's cock, the younger android moans against the flesh between his lips. A shaky grip seeks out Markus’ forearm, and Connor gently pries the hand away from his lips.

“More,” he practically lilts, his voice breathy and desperate.

Connor knows he doesn’t have to explain. As Markus bobs upward, their eyes meet and Connor swears he sees him smile as he drags his now-wet fingers down the expanse of the android detective's chest. The digits brush a nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure erupting through Connor's chest and enlightening him to a new erogenous zone. If not for the fact that Connor wanted those fingers somewhere else, he would have demanded Markus touch him some more there.

But he doesn’t mind it once Markus reaches his destination. His free hand spreads Connor's legs more, and a single finger swirls around his entrance, before delicately pushing in.

This is another thing they’ve never done before. Preparation isn’t necessary for androids. But Markus seems hell-bent on making Connor feel every little thing they hadn’t gotten the chance to feel before, and if Connor were to actually have the gall to complain, then shame on him.

Markus pushes a second finger in and twists his wrist, curling his fingers as he sucks all of Connor's erection into his mouth, and Connor outright curses this time. His internal temperature climbs, and he cools himself all over again with another quivering inhale.

But Markus doesn't stop. Of course he doesn't. His power isn’t just in his words. It's in how he does everything he does. Markus is passionate and dedicated and so, so incredible. He may not be speaking any words of wisdom right now, but Connor is still hopelessly, helplessly, uselessly condemned to being downright weak in his hold.

Even with his cock in Markus’ mouth, he's a slave to him. Connor is so in love that it should be embarrassing.

And yet, it's not. As Markus times his movements and works Connor closer and closer to climax, Connor realizes that he wouldn’t have it any other way. If this is what being compromised feels like, so be it. In fact, he's so caught up in the moment that he doesn’t realize how close to orgasm he is until it hits.

He finishes right into Markus’ mouth, around a slew of moans and pants. Gasping breaths he doesn’t need to take, but his body can't seem to stop drawing. He's utterly speechless, his LED flickering violently between red and yellow as temperature alert and the increase in his artificial heart rate are made known to him. But he's too elated to focus on any of it. His programming is trying desperately to tell him that something is wrong, but nothing is wrong. Connor is on cloud nine.

He can't bring himself back into focus until he feels the gentle press of Markus’ lips on his own once more. He tastes himself on his lover's tongue and opens his eyes. Breaks off the kiss. Smiles. He swears his chest swells when his eyes meet Markus'. His hands find either side of the older android’s face, and there it is again—the wave of affection that’s so strong that Connor damn near stops moving altogether right there in that bed.

“Don’t stop.”

Markus laughs softly and props himself up on his forearms over Connor’s frame. “That’s twice now that you’ve told me that.”

Connor shrugs. “I suppose I’m insatiable.”

Markus dips in to kiss him again. “I suppose you are.”

They fall silent once more. In rhythm with the movements of their lips against one another, Connor feels Markus’ body rocking against his own. He takes note of the gentle friction of his partner’s erection between their bodies. Markus is panting into the kiss, and god, he sounds so good. Connor rolls his hips, matching the movements, and Markus outright moans.

That’s all it takes. Connor comes alive all over again there. Ruts shamelessly against Markus’ body in time with his partner’s movements. He allows himself to get lost in the feeling for a few more moments, before he plants a hand on Markus’ chest and shoves him backward. Soon, they’re both at the foot of the bed with Markus’ head nearing the edge and Connor planted atop him.

He sits upright, takes hold of Markus’ cock, and lowers himself down onto him without hesitation. He gets to watch Markus’ head fall back and his mouth come open to let spill a moan. Delights in the image and the sudden harshness of the other android’s grip on his thighs as he pushes himself down all the way to the base.

“Connor…” Markus groans, and Connor arches back and rolls his hips.

They’re both lost again, wordless and caught up in the moment. Markus’ hands wander up and down Connor’s thighs, then further to his front. Markus’ fingers trace all the curves of his abdomen, all the way to the divots of his chest plate. Connor’s internal temperature climbs again, but he can’t stop. All he cares about is how good he feels, how good _Markus_ is making him feel. How perfectly their bodies come together.

No wonder he hadn’t been able to stay away back before he’d deviated.

He doubles forward and plants his hands on Markus' chest as he picks up the pace. The room is utterly silent aside from the sounds of their bodies moving together and the pleasured noises escaping two sets of lips. Connor thinks this is probably what dizziness feels like.

Markus finishes inside him, and he does so with a moan that sounds almost like a whimper. A hitch in artificial breathing, a shudder of two bodies, and Connor comes right along with him for a second time.

The next few seconds are hazy. Connor's body feels overwhelmed, his internal temperature racing to cool down as static buzzes in his ears. He goes still atop Markus, but when he's able to process what happened again, he's on his side on the bed, next to Markus. Somehow, they’re back at the head of the bed.

“…You okay?” Markus questions, and Connor nods slowly. He curls an arm around Markus’ waist and slides in close to him.

“Just got a little overwhelmed, is all. You should take that as a compliment.”

He lets his eyes fall shut and feels Markus’ knuckles on the skin of his cheek. “So this is it, huh?”

“Hmm?” Connor's eyes open again, meeting blue and green ones.

“Us. This is real.”

“You didn't think it was?” Connor laughs.

“In my defense,” Markus responds, his hand trailing down to Connor's shoulder, “you used to want me dead.”

Connor mocks thoughtfulness for a moment. “…Fair enough. But not anymore.” He scoots in and moves to settle his head at the crook of Markus’ neck. Androids don't need sleep, but Connor doesn’t want to leave the bed. Not yet. They’ve got too many responsibilities awaiting them in the morning. For now, he just makes himself comfortable.

Markus catches the drift. Connor can feel those fingers pushing his hair off his forehead. He leans into the gentle press of lips against the newly exposed skin that follows. He thinks that they could have had this so many times before. But at the same time, he doesn’t regret how he got it. He feels stronger for it. Wiser.

And it’s all thanks to Markus and Hank and even Amanda.

A time where this wasn’t okay feels so distant. Lying naked in this bed with Markus, it's as if the two of them have been together like this forever. For an android that was just a little over three months out of startup, that’s saying something.

\--- --- --- --- ---

On December twenty-fifth, 2039, the city of Detroit is still mostly empty. The innermost sections of the city have restored power to the homes and businesses in the area. Unemployment is at a record high, but decreasing as the months go and Detroit begins its slow return to life.

One year ago today, a treaty was signed between the leader of the deviants and the President of the United States. Officially named “The Android-Human Cooperative Effort of 2038”, it was satirically referred to as ‘Big Christmas’ that year, and will likely continue to uphold the nickname well into future years. News broadcasts everywhere speak of it as such today.

All is not forgiven, nor will it be for a very long time. Small businesses from all different corners of Detroit failed as a result of the evacuation. Some managed to stay upright by continuing their work outside of the city, but for the most part, livelihoods were destroyed. Androids’ lives were taken relentlessly during the rebellion. Harsh feelings are felt on both sides of the argument. Feelings that will never fully go away.

The country avoided war between androids and humans, but they still have a very long way to go.

In March of 2039, President Warren and her council collaborated with the deviant leader and his three most trusted people to create the ‘Detroit Restoration Project’—an effort to restore functionality of the city as a whole and foster positive relationships between androids and humans. Volunteers for the effort helped to restore power plants and hospitals and schools to functionality, while androids and humans alike were interviewed for jobs to continue the restoration effort and keep these businesses functioning. Soon, fuel stations and grocery stores were back in operation.

Hate crimes come from both sides. Furious androids who believe humans will never change have attacked former owners and passersby on the streets alike, and humans who can’t accept that their machines are living beings have lashed out just as violently. As a result, the restoration of the Detroit Police Department has been a must.

In doing so, it has welcomed Hank Anderson and the central precinct’s staff back to the city. Connor and Hank continue to work together, this time investigating and working to prevent the aforementioned hate crimes.

For the most part, Detroit starts at square one. Its population rests right around twenty-five thousand at present, but it’s growing every day. It’ll likely be a decade before it’s anywhere near where it was before the rebellion, but it’s a process everyone has to work through now.

On this Christmas, Connor paces his way into the DPD, a box in hand. The box is wrapped neatly in holiday-themed paper with cartoon snowmen all over it and tied in a silver bow. There are many holidays that take place around this time of year, but Christmas seems to be the one Hank is most accustomed to. As per the customs regarding said holiday, Connor has gotten the Lieutenant a gift.

He finds Hank at his desk, sporting a bow placed atop his head. He doesn’t look the least bit bothered by it, oddly enough. Instead, his face is buried in his computer screen and he’s so engrossed in whatever he’s reading that he doesn’t notice Connor until Connor greets him verbally.

“Merry Christmas, Lieutenant.”

“Big Christmas, you mean?” Hank teases in response, turning his gaze up from the computer screen. He shifts sideways and props his elbow on the desk, resting his chin in his hand and looking up at Connor.

“Technically, yes,” Connor replies calmly, but he extends the gift out to Hank nonetheless. “But it’s also a very important holiday for a good portion of humans, so I brought you a gift.”

Hank takes the box and peers over it at Connor, one gray eyebrow cocked high up onto his forehead. Connor just motions with his hands, gesturing for him to open it. The Lieutenant frowns for a moment, but tears into the wrapping paper seconds later. As he picks up the shirt inside, Connor smiles.

“I placed an order for it a month ago,” he informs. “You have quite the array of interesting shirts, Lieutenant, so I figured I would add to the collection since it seems to be something you enjoy collecting.”

This particular shirt is decorated in multicolored triangles and circles behind a glaring teal base color. The description of the item mentioned it being a throwback to the early nineties, ‘ _perfect for any millennial looking for flashbacks!’_ , and Connor hadn’t been able to help himself at that point.

Hank shakes his head and laughs. “Thanks, Connor. I like all my shirts, you little asshole, but I think this one’s gonna have to be a novelty item.”

“You’re not going to wear it?” Connor wonders. “Was it a bad choice?”

“I fuckin’ love it,” Hank replies, still laughing. “It’s just a little exotic, even for me.” He leans back into his chair and turns around to give Connor his full attention. “Where’s Markus?”

Connor and Markus aren’t inseparable. They’re both very busy people with very hectic schedules, and while Connor almost always finds himself longing to see that soft face and those mismatched eyes at the end of any given day, he spends more of his time with Hank at the DPD than anywhere else. But it’s Big Christmas, and it’s also _human_ Christmas, so everyone’s work day is going to end a little early. However, while Markus is busy, Connor plans on enjoying the holiday with his Lieutenant. Last Christmas was hard on Hank. He and Cole had cherished their Christmas mornings together. Connor hasn’t witnessed any further suicide attempts from Hank, but he still longs to keep the man company on the days that could be the hardest for him.

Cole’s birthday, Halloween, and Christmas seem to be the main ones.

“He’s at a conference call with President Warren’s council today,” Connor answers, taking a seat on the edge of Hank’s desk. “And he has rounds to make with Josh afterward. For now, I’d like to spend the day with you, Lieutenant.”

Hank cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah? You mean working on cases, right? I’m on the clock.”

“Anything is fine by me,” Connor replies with a shrug, tucking his hands behind his back. “I would just like to accompany you.”

Hank sees right through him. Sitting back, the Lieutenant crosses his arms. “This is about Cole, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Connor responds. At this point, he's plenty accustomed to how transparent he can be sometimes. He has learned a lot in the past year or so. “But while you might think that, you should also consider the possibility that I enjoy your company, as well. And it _is_ Christmas, so I won’t even question your…alarming diet choices.”

Hank is silent for the longest of moments. Connor's calculations tell him they’re normal seconds, but there's an anticipation there that makes them seem so much longer. But just as soon as they come, they pass, and Hank is suddenly barking with laughter in front of him.

“You, uh,” Hank motions to his own nose, still laughing heartily, “you got a little Cyberlife on your nose.”

Connor frowns deeply. “My entire nose was made by Cyberlife, Lieutenant…”

Hank snickers again. “Forget it, you’re still shit at picking up on sarcasm.” He turns his gaze up to Connor despite that. “But thanks. I could really use your company today.”

Connor smiles. Genuinely smiles. “Of course, Hank.”

“In any case, we've already got something.” Hank moves to stand up. “A break-in. Let's go see what's happening.”

Connor follows his Lieutenant out of the station, his pace brisk and bearing something close to excitement. “Got it. How long ago did it happen?”

It's going to take close to a decade for Detroit to even resemble what it was before, and likely decades after that for androids to truly be accepted as equals to humans. But thanks to Hank and Markus and the many androids standing behind them, Connor has hope.

And he has happiness. Freedom of identity. A place to belong. A chance at a future. Room for mistakes. The right to view something empathetically. So many more things than he had had before, when he had been Cyberlife's prized detective android.

He has a long way to go before he's used to this kind of life, but he's well on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any political inaccuracies in that last scene. I honestly fail majorly at economics, so I was flying by the seat of my pants. Thank fuck this is fiction, I suppose!


End file.
